Reclamations
by seditionary
Summary: Case fic. A year after Hankel, Reid is plagued by an old secret he thought he could leave buried. Morgan helped him before-he means to help him now. But will Reid accept what he offers if it means facing his past? Angst, slash, see Ch.1 for addl.warnings.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Well, here I am, back with another multi-chaptered fic. **

**Warnings:** Angst. Serial rapist/killer. Descriptions of a dead body.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one from "Criminal Minds" and no money is made from this, it is just for fun.  
**Summary:** Reid suffered a major trauma at the hands of Tobias Hankel, and thanks to him, a long-buried secret from Reid's past has come back to haunt him.

**A/N:** This is a multi-chaptered fic that will focus on the aftermath of Hankel on Reid's psyche and how Morgan is part of his recovery. There will be** SLASH and SMUT later, **so be warned. And, it's a case fic (not my strong suit, sorry if it's lame) involving the rape/murder of teenage girls. Set about a year after "Revelations," some spoilers for that, and references to events in episodes from season 3.

**FYI: I think I overdosed on fluff with the last couple of stories I did. This one is pretty grim... But, I hope you like it! ;)**

* * *

Fourteen.

That was the number of years Amy Lynne Chappelle had lived before being kidnapped, raped, and murdered.

Fourteen years of being a nice, normal kid. Busy with school, music, and dance. Parents who loved her, a little sister who was still young enough to idolize her, grandparents who doted on her. A best friend, a little group of buddies that she loved to hang out with... Nothing unusual about any of them. And, nothing unusual about the day Amy Lynne disappeared.

That was the hell of it, Reid thought. No warning.

Amy had spent Saturday afternoon at a friend's house. The two girls were working on a science project, eating homemade Rice Crispy treats and talking about boys. Then Amy remembered she was supposed to be home by 5:00. She left to walk home around 4:30.

She never got there.

One minute, her whole world consisted of an iffy science grade, freshman year gossip, and whether her mom would take her to the mall that evening so she could spend her birthday money; the next-Reid didn't want to think about it. He knew what it was like to be snatched from the comfortable familiarity of one's own existence and plunged into a horror show.

There were no witnesses.

Once the unsub was done with her, he'd stashed her body in the wall of a condemned house. Two days later, it was discovered by a demolition contractor during a routine assessment of the property.

Reid stared at the small figure, crammed ignominiously into the tight crawlspace like an unwanted doll thrust into an overflowing toy box.

_She was pretty_. He stood slightly bent at the waist with his hands in his pockets, head cocked to the side. Morgan and Prentiss were moving through the abandoned house, along with several members of local law enforcement, looking for clues and gathering what scant evidence there was. Reid had already determined that, if the killer had left anything helpful behind, it rested with Amy Lynne.

Three... That was the number of homicides known to be the work of this same unsub, all young white females. In each case, he'd left his DNA, but there were zero hits in the database. No prints, no usable evidence. He'd killed them, then found empty houses to dump them in. That probably meant something, but Reid couldn't put his finger on what it was.

And, twenty-two. That was how many miles it was between the points of the geographic triangle in which the other bodies had been discovered. Reid would add this site to the map when he got back to the office, but he had little hope that it would help pinpoint anything. They just didn't have enough information yet.

Six was the number of months between the first and second disappearances, three between the second and third. This one had taken place a mere four weeks later. _He's getting bolder. _Reid idly pulled more numbers out of his head and mentally thumbed through them as they waited for the medical examiner to arrive.

There was nothing else to do.

"Hey, kid." Morgan came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, there's nothing more we can do here."

"No, I want to get a look at the crawlspace after the body's been removed."

"Why? What are you thinking?"

"I want to see if there was any preparation. The other dump sites seem to have been about convenience-incidental, unplanned. But, this was a little more sophisticated, must have taken more time and effort... If he prepared the site in advance, it could indicate an increasing level of organization."

"You think the first three were just-"

"Practice."

Morgan sighed. "Ok, then. I'll wait outside. Holler if you need anything." He took one more sorrowful look at the small figure in the wall and headed out front to confer with the officers writing reports. Reid barely noticed.

He knelt down and placed his hand over the girl's. Cold, of course. Pale skin, blue-tinged nail beds. One cloudy eye half-open, her jaw hanging slackly to the side. Well past rigor. Spencer felt a prickle of tears, and quickly brushed his sleeve over his eyes. He didn't understand it-dead bodies usually didn't elicit such emotion from him. Anger, yes, sometimes even rage. Regret for what the person had been, and for what they might have become. But this... this heartbreaking sorrow. That was new.

He thought of what it had been like in the early days. Back then, he'd been unmoved in the presence of the dead. Somehow, in a classroom setting, even with the cadaver starkly laid out before him on a metal cart, there had been a disconnect. The body was a learning tool, an organic textbook of forensic information that he would someday apply in the field. On his more philosophical days, he thought of it as a casing left behind, a spent cocoon no longer needed by the moth.

Nothing more.

He'd studied the biology and the mechanics of death. He'd learned what it took to shut down the life force of a human being-how amazingly resilient, yet surprisingly fragile the body can be.

So, when he'd finally hit the field and been faced with a victim of violence, it was... exciting. He'd positively reveled in the opportunity to match his knowledge with the marks the murder weapon had left in soft tissue, on hard bone.

But... things changed after Hankel. As if a light switch had been flipped on in his head, he began to _see. _Then, later, when the kid died in front of him, everything seemed to coalesce, and the... the grief began. He hadn't felt it before, but now, it just seemed to get worse with every young victim. And... somehow, nowadays, whenever he saw children, teens-walking in the park, laughing, running-a vision of a bloody body, permanently frozen in youth, would puncture his thoughts.

It was too easy to make the leap between past and future. He thought of little Jack Hotchner, and he thought of JJ, with her pregnant belly just beginning to protrude. Of their normal lives, just beginning. He looked down into the half-open eye. _She was someone's little girl,_ he thought, and fought back a catch in his throat.

The M.E. and the investigators came in; Reid stepped away. He forced himself to watch as they pulled her out. She was really jammed in there and they had to work for a while to compress and manipulate her shoulders enough to free her. Then, the M.E. checked her for signs.

"She's been dead at least forty-eight hours. There's blunt force trauma on the back of her head, but C.O.D. appears to be exsanguination-her throat was cut. We'll know more after the autopsy."

Reid pursed his lips and shook his head. He thought of the great gift Tobias Hankel had bestowed upon him, along with the curse of addiction-the ability to vividly imagine, no, to _know, _what sort of horrors the unsub's victims suffered before their deaths. She'd been terrified, of course, probably for a long time. Did she see death coming? Or, was she hopeful until the end?

At what point did she realize that-no one was coming to save her?

Her parents couldn't. Nor could the police; not even an elite team of BAU profilers could get to her in time. Reid knew it was not their fault. Some things just happened, and there was nothing to be done about it, except to learn and to use that knowledge to find the killer, hopefully before another child was taken. He wondered-if there was an afterlife, did Amy Lynne Chappelle take any satisfaction from knowing her death would lead them to the man who did this to her?

He doubted it.


	2. Distractions

**A/N: Ok-here in Chapter 2 we get Morgan's perspective... Please review, angels! **

* * *

All the bodies had been discovered in the vicinity of Melrose, VA, a sprawling bedroom community located close enough to Quantico that the team could go home and sleep in their own beds every night. That was nice for Hotch and JJ-they could walk through their front doors and leave the case behind until morning, if they chose to do so. They had their families-other responsibilities, other obligations.

Other distractions.

But, for Morgan... There was something to be said for holing up in an anonymous hotel room-unremarkable, generic, impersonal-when immersed in a case like this. Upon its conclusion, it was a blessing to be able walk away, to forget the ugly associations along with the tiny bottles of shampoo, wet towels and luggage trolleys rolling down the hall at 2:00 AM. A blessing to step back into his own life, with the cloak of lost souls off his shoulders, however briefly...

Back at the BAU, Morgan said goodnight first to Rossi, then to Prentiss, as they headed for home. Hotch had left earlier, it being Open House night at Jack's pre-school. JJ and Garcia left together shortly afterwards, off to do some shopping for the baby.

Morgan stayed long enough to put the finishing touches on the day's report, then logged off, leaned back, and rubbed his tired eyes. It had been a hell of a day, and seeing that poor girl stashed in the wall-_damn_.

_Stop it. _

He really wanted a beer, or maybe something stronger. He toyed with the idea of going out, but quickly dismissed it. He'd long ago lost his taste for hook-ups with strangers, and if he was going to drink alone, he could do it better-and cheaper-at home. He stood up, glanced around the quiet bullpen and noticed that Reid hadn't left yet, either.

Maybe he'd come over and watch the game with him. "Watch" being a dubious term. Reid tended to chat compulsively when faced with something that didn't hold his interest, and he usually got bored halfway through the first quarter. Fortunately, Morgan didn't need audio to enjoy a good football game, and he'd found he liked having Reid around enough to put up with his chatter.

Sometimes, he liked that more than the game.

The young profiler was at his desk, hunched up and sitting so close to his computer monitor that the cold light of the backlit screen lent a silvery cast to his face. His chin was propped on one hand and he was scowling as he scrolled the mouse around. Morgan smiled slightly; he looked like a kid resentfully struggling with a wicked math problem.

"Hey, man." Morgan perched on the next desk. Reid managed to raise his eyes to him without actually changing his posture in any way.

"Yes?"

"You're going to ruin your eyes, sitting close like that."

"They're already ruined. Have you seen how thick my glasses are?"

"Mm." Morgan nodded. "Listen, why don't you come over tonight? There's a game on; we could order in, make an evening of it. What do you say?"

The eyes, again. "Wow... that sounds really good, but I can't. I've got a lot of stuff to do." He gave an apologetic smile, then turned back to the computer. Morgan understood he'd been dismissed, but he wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Really. Like what?"

"Oh... " Reid didn't bother to stifle a yawn as he unfolded himself and leaned back in his desk chair. He raised his arms high over his head and arched into a joint-popping stretch. Morgan was amused to see how much space the kid could take up when he extended his limbs like that. "Nothing exciting, believe me. Laundry. Plus, I've definitely got to get some groceries, I'm down to peanut butter and jelly and no bread." He gave Morgan a wry grin. "Stuff like that. You know."

"Yeah, I know. Being a grown up sucks, doesn't it?"

"Well, given my mother's condition, I had to assume an adult role at a fairly early age. Which would lead you to think that I'd be better at it by now. But... " He shrugged and laughed feebly.

Morgan laughed too, and affectionately ruffled Reid's hair. "All right. Do what you need to do. But, if you change your mind, come on over. I'll be up."

Reid nodded absently. Morgan said goodnight, then strode off to wait for the elevator. He looked back and noted that Reid had already returned to his hunched monk pose. Morgan sighed. He wondered if he should be worried, if this case was already getting to Reid. It-or something-seemed to be making him retreat into himself again, almost the way he had after Hankel. A bad sign, Morgan thought. After everything the young man had been through, Morgan hated to think he might be slipping backward.

He was proud of Reid. Proud of how he'd... fought his way back. Morgan had tried his best to help him, but in the end, the kid had done it for himself, there was no question about that. All Morgan had ever been able to do for him was to-_be_ there.

He'd been a shoulder, an ear, and an occasional bastard, on the few occasions when that had been necessary. He'd been the one to drive Reid to his first NA meeting, back when he finally admitted that he couldn't kick the Dilaudid alone. And, he'd been the first one-the only one-Reid had called when he'd made it through his first night clean. Morgan had been so happy for him, he'd waited until Reid had hung up the phone and cried.

Damn it, he thought, remembering. _Spencer Reid. _Why'd he let the kid get to him like that? Why'd he-

The elevator door opened. He shook himself out of his reverie, rode it down to the lobby, and headed to his car. As he pulled out of the BAU parking lot, he pondered where he could go for dinner alone without feeling like a freak. He settled for a drive-through burger and ate it as he drove. He finally began to relax a little, and he thought again of how Reid had looked-those somber eyes, dark, beautiful. Long limbs stretched in a graceful arc, like a cat. Of how it would feel to-

He caught himself and grimaced. _Cut it out, man. Don't go there. Just... don't._

* * *

By the time Morgan got home, it was after dark. He went inside, closed the door, and, before he walked another step, he cleared his mind and made a conscious decision to leave the case on his front steps. It was a technique he'd been practicing for a while now, thanks to some long ago counseling from Jason Gideon, and a particular kind of determination to maintain his sanity.

For now, alone in the safe, normal world of his house, he focused on getting ready to watch the game. He changed into sweats and a t-shirt, then went to his kitchen and put all his energy into the task of popping a bag of microwave popcorn. He threw it in, set the timer and stood back to watch the bag expand. He liked this; it was simple, and it was easy, and the progression from a single brave little "pop" to the chatter of multiple kernels going off in unison was delightfully satisfying.

An engaging, if brief, distraction.

The cheerful little explosions slowed and the smell became intense; the timer went off, and he gingerly removed the bag by one corner and shook it. He found a bowl, opened the bag and cursed when the steam burned his fingers. He then opened the fridge, intending to reach for a bottle of beer, but snapped it shut when he heard a sharp rap on his front door.

He went to his foyer and peered through the peephole to see Reid standing there. Morgan brightened at the sight of him; at the same time, he wondered what made him change his mind. He opened the door and gave the kid a pleased grin.

"Well, hey. Thought you had big, important plans for tonight. Let's see, what was it-laundry, right?"

Reid smiled slightly. "Um, yeah, and groceries. But, I decided I needed some company after all. Okay if I come in?"

"Sure, I was just about to grab a beer."

Reid stepped in and sniffed. "Popcorn, huh?"

"Want some?"

"Please."

Morgan handed him the bowl, took two bottles out of the fridge, and went to sit on the couch. Reid followed and took a seat at the opposite end, already munching the salty treat. He placed the bowl between them, Morgan handed him a beer, then turned on the television. It promised to be a close game, and Morgan punctuated the action on the screen with helpful suggestions and encouragement for his team. By the end of the second quarter, it occurred to Morgan that he'd been the only one talking. He turned the sound down and glanced at Reid.

"Hey-you ok?"

A defensive huff. "Of course-why wouldn't I be?"

Morgan frowned and turned to face him. He knew Reid well enough to know that that tone of voice meant something really was wrong. He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Another dead girl, maybe? Dealing with human depravity day after day, week after week-"

"I know that's not what you're really thinking." Reid spoke softly, and gave Morgan a pointed look, but the older agent shook his head.

"Come on, man-I know you're not using. I could tell if you were. But, something's definitely up with you. Are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to play Twenty Questions?"

Reid didn't say anything, seemingly engrossed in a commercial for a lawn care product. Then, he shifted his posture and propped a foot on Morgan's coffee table.

"I'm _not_ using. But, to tell you the truth, it... crossed my mind today."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There are days... It's the waiting, you know? The helplessness. I'd rather go face to face with a hundred unsubs than go home at night, knowing there's nothing we can do but... wait for the next victim."

Morgan nodded. "Okay. So, is there a meeting you can go to?"

"Oh, yeah... there's always a meeting."

"I could take you. We could go for some coffee afterwards."

Reid turned his head and the two stared at each other for a moment. Then Reid dropped his eyes and cleared his throat.

"I need something else tonight, Morgan. But-I don't think you're the one to give it to me." He checked his watch. "Listen, it's late, I better get going." He gave Morgan a tired smile and put his hands on his knees to launch himself into a standing position, but Morgan grabbed his arm and held him back.

"'Something else?' What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, never mind. I don't even know why I said it."

"Reid-come on, tell me what you're thinking. Why'd you come here tonight?" Morgan studied Reid's face. _Damn, the boy's pretty. _He pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on Reid's words.

Reid kept his eyes on the floor. "I... the body responds to different stimuli in different ways. I tend to process things on an intellectual level, first. I'm good at compartmentalizing, but on occasion, there's a strictly physiological component to an accumulation of stress, it's called distress, as opposed to eustress, which is actually thought to be a positive means of achieving desirable change-"

"Reid."

Reid paused and drew a breath before continuing. "Right. What I'm trying to say is, I don't usually use, uh, _sex _as a means of self-comfort, but tonight-I don't know, I just want to... forget myself with someone. To engage in an act of intimacy to... try to feel alive." He glanced sideways, noting Morgan's bewildered expression. "I'm sorry. I know you're not into that sort of thing. With guys, I mean. I honestly didn't come here with that in mind. I thought just being around someone else who understood what we went through today would be enough, but..." He shrugged. "Look, forget it. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-you know, make you feel uncomfortable."

Reid braced himself for whatever means of rejection Morgan typically used on stupid boys who foolishly wore their homoerotic urges on their sleeve. He knew he would be kind. He just hoped it wouldn't be awkward between them later.

But, Morgan didn't recoil. He shook his head slowly and smiled.

"I'm not uncomfortable."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No. Hey, man-don't tell me you haven't noticed some of the looks I've been giving you lately."

Reid blinked. "Looks? You've been giving me looks?"

"Yeah. For a while, now."

"I'm afraid I haven't noticed. Honestly, it never occurred to me that you might be... interested." Reid wasn't sure what he was feeling; on the one hand, he was wholly unprepared for this turn of events. On the other, it seemed completely natural to discover that Derek Morgan, the cocky ladies' man, might have another side to him.

Morgan took a deep breath and thought over what to say. He wanted to be clear without overwhelming his friend. "I... make a point of not bringing my private life to work. But-I guess you could say I play on both teams. And, have for years."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you know. I mean, back in college, I... well. But, I didn't think you-"

"You suspected."

Morgan considered. "No, not really. I guess I tried not to think about it too much. Figured it would complicate things between us." He ran a hand through Reid's lank hair, liking the way it felt between his fingers. "Can't say I haven't wondered, though." His voice was gentle.

Reid continued matter-of-factly. "I've been with girls. I actually had a girlfriend for a while, back in grad school. She broke my heart. Later, I was with guys, sometimes. Just curiosity at first, at least, that's what I told myself at the time. Then later..." He shrugged. "But none of it ever amounted to anything, not really. To be honest, I have a very low sex drive, it's not normally a particularly motivating factor for me, but lately-"

"You need to get laid."

Reid laughed slightly. "Yeah, I think so. And, when I think about it these days... girls just aren't in the picture."

Morgan absently rubbed the base of Reid's neck, working the tight muscles between his thumb and forefinger. After a moment, he realized the kid had dropped his head onto his chest and was moaning. He grinned.

"Reid, look at me."

Reid raised his eyes. "What?"

"I got no problem with you and me working off a little stress between the sheets, if that's what we're talking about."

"You don't?"

"No. In fact, it might be good-for both of us."

Reid was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke tentatively. "It might be... weird. Afterward, I mean. Working together, and-"

"We're adults. It's just sex-I think we can handle it. What do you say?"

Reid stared at the floor for a moment, then simply nodded. Morgan stood and offered him a hand. Reid took it, and Morgan pulled him to his feet, then led him to his bedroom.


	3. Trying to Understand

**A/N: Ok, the smut has arrived! This chapter is all about boy/boy sex, language, and a definite lack of fluff (sorry, fluff fans...) Reviews would be awesome! **

**Seds**

* * *

Morgan opened the door to his bedroom and gestured for Reid to go in ahead of him. Neither of them spoke. They maintained an air of studied casualness, as if stripping naked in front of each other was the most ordinary thing in the world, but they barely looked at each other until they were both under the covers. Morgan snaked an arm around Reid's shoulders and went in for a kiss, but Reid stiffened and sat upright. In a businesslike tone he asked, "You do have, uh, protection and stuff, right?"

It occurred to Morgan that he'd had more romantic preludes to sex with complete strangers, but he thought he understood. Knowing Reid, he was probably concerned about Bureau policies-maybe he had to keep things as unemotional as possible in order to rationalize doing this with a fellow agent.

"Yeah." He opened his nightstand drawer and took out a box of condoms and a tube of lubricant, then turned and gave Reid a grin; the corners of Reid's mouth turned up as well, but he appeared too preoccupied for it to be called a smile. He settled back into the pillow and looked up at the ceiling.

"Come here." Morgan pulled him to him, brought his hand to Reid's chest and thumbed lazy circles on a nipple. He trailed his fingertips downward over his belly while he pressed his mouth against Reid's neck. He stroked Reid's cock, nuzzled him a little, then sought his lips, and after a moment, Reid gave in to a deep kiss.

"Touch me," Morgan said softly. Reid closed his eyes and dutifully found Morgan's cock. He squeezed and stroked and tried to focus, noting how the thick, stiffening member came to life in his hand. Morgan moaned and whispered, "That feels good, baby." He moved to kiss and lick along the long arc of Reid's throat, lingered at the base, then moved lower, pressing soft, slow kisses along the way. Reid bit his lip.

_That's enough, damn it_. _Let's get on with it._

Reid knew that he should like it, this gentleness. This warm comfortable embrace, this slow, easy build-up. He tried to relax, tried to enjoy being romanced, and maybe, at another time, he would have. Would have loved being teased and treasured and held and adored. Would have laughed when it tickled and snuggled against Morgan's muscular chest and shyly hidden his face in the warmth of his neck.

But, right now, this night, there was a buzzing in his brain, there were electric currents shooting through him that needed to be harnessed, quick, before the pressure overtook him and made him explode. He stood it as long as he could. Then he impatiently pulled away.

He reached for the lube and handed it to Morgan.

_Subtle hint._

Morgan got the message, and tried not to feel hurt. He thought he understood; he knew what it was like, that _need, _he'd been there before, but... Maybe he thought things were different between him and Reid. Maybe he was wrong. He squashed his disappointment and took the tube, flipped open the cap and coated his fingers. He propped himself on one elbow and reached between Reid's parted thighs and found his entrance. He used a light touch to work in the gel, and Reid shivered.

Morgan slowly pressed in a finger. It was delicious, to feel Reid's body open up to him. He gently drew back and forth a few times, then slid in another finger as well, but after only a few moments, Reid irritably pulled his hand away. Morgan sat back and looked into Reid's eyes.

"Hey, chill. Let me prepare you-"

"Don't bother. Just do it."

"But, I might hurt you!"

"I don't care. I don't care, I just need to... Just do it, Morgan, please. Come on."

Against his better judgment, Morgan raised himself and knelt between Reid's legs. He rolled on a condom, slicked up, then did as requested and slid into him. He tried to set a gentle pace, but Reid's frustration was palpable, and after a few measured slides in and out, he began thrusting, deeper and faster. He heard a quick intake of breath as Reid adjusted to the burn, but there was no protest; Reid just arched fluidly into the movements, making them count all the more.

"Yes," Reid muttered. "That's it. Come on. Harder..." Morgan's solid weight on top of him, coiled power wrapped around him, his skin warm where it pressed against his own-the first round felt like a fix to Reid. He held onto Morgan, feeling as if those strong arms had caught him in free-fall and were bringing him safely back to earth. _If only he'd... _"Harder," he gasped. "Please..."

All right, Morgan thought. If this is what he wants... Morgan threw all restraint aside and pounded into the young man below him, taking him, stripping gentleness and care from his conscious thought. Even so, he listened for sounds of discomfort or distress from his lover, but there were none; Reid just writhed against him, took him in, and mumbled broken encouragements.

Reid groaned. Now, every neurofiber in his body felt splendidly raw, openly receptive, and each deep stroke sent hot energy coursing through him in a blinding wave. It was quick, urgent, and it didn't take him long to finish. Morgan felt the violent spasm go through him; felt the edginess in the lanky body subside and fall away.

For Morgan, this moment felt long overdue. The intimacy, the sounds Reid made as they fucked, his scent, his body-the tightness, heat, the way he urged him in-he didn't quite understand why, but it all felt like coming home. He pumped until he filled the tip of the condom, but kept thrusting until the last tremor faded, then he rolled off, too spent and exhausted to even try to string words together into a coherent sentence. He lay flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling until he regained his vision and a gasping capacity for speech, then he croaked, "Damn it, kid. You been deprived too long, you just about killed me."

At first, Reid didn't answer. He was stretched out beside him, their bodies close but not touching, his breathing audible. Everything inside him felt warm and right and liquid, and he didn't want to disturb the almost narcotic effect with talk. Endorphins, he told himself... Good stuff. Finally, the intense pleasure ebbed away and he rasped, "That was good. That was exactly what I needed..."

Morgan chuckled slightly. "Me, too, apparently-now that you mention it."

They dozed off for a while. Then, Morgan felt a wet tongue on his neck, followed by a nip, then a luscious, rich sucking action. Reid moved down to his chest and applied the same treatment to a nipple, then his belly button. He grasped Morgan's cock in one hand, then took him in his mouth.

Morgan's breath quickened and he groaned. Too good. He tangled one hand into Reid's hair and caressed him as the young agent pulled back, then took him in again, this time down his throat. He kept going until Morgan was achingly hard and close to desperate, then stopped abruptly. For a moment, Morgan froze, was conscious of nothing but the sound and feel of Reid's rapid breath on his belly.

Reid rested his weight on one arm, and raised his eyes to Morgan's. "Want to go again?"

The moon illuminated the room. Morgan gently ran his hand over Reid's smooth cheek, searching his eyes for something he couldn't give a name to. Reid's expression was impassive; Morgan couldn't read him. Still, he forced a smile. "Hell, yeah," he said simply. Reid wordlessly turned onto his stomach and lay his head on his arms. He raised his haunches, and Morgan shifted upward, settled behind him and reached for another condom.

* * *

It was one o'clock in the morning when they finished the second round. Sated, Morgan drifted off again, only to feel Reid leave the bed and go to the bathroom. When he returned, Morgan waited for the bed to shift with his weight, but instead he heard the sound of clothing being rifled through, then a zipper being pulled up. He opened his eyes.

"What are you doing?''

In the dim light, he could see Reid glance at him as he pulled on his shirt.

"Sorry. I think I'll head for home now. But, this was nice."

A wave of irritation came over Morgan. "Now, hold on just a minute! Are you telling me you came over here, got you some, and now you're going home? Spencer Reid hit me up for a booty call?"

Reid gave him a perplexed look. "A... what?"

"Never mind. Look, man, come on, get back in bed. Don't go."

"I need to. I'm sorry."

Reid sat on the edge of the bed and began to put on his shoes. Morgan watched for a moment, then rolled over and slipped his arm around Reid's waist.

"Hey, listen, don't run off. It's nice and warm in here. Stay," he murmured in his ear.

"No, thanks. I really don't sleep very well with another person in the bed. Anyway, I have a feeling that I'll be restless, and you need a good night's sleep. Who knows what tomorrow's going to be like."

Reid pulled away from him and knelt to find his other shoe. He slipped it on, tied it, then moved toward the doorway, buttoning his shirt.

"Hey, wait-" Morgan protested.

Reid stopped and looked back. Morgan's face was twisted into a frown.

"You don't have to go."

"I know. It's just better this way."

"I don't see how."

Reid pursed his lips impatiently. "I'm really sorry. I just-I need to be alone, now. It's nothing to do with you, I just have to figure some things out."

"Things? What things?"

Reid shrugged. "I don't know-a lot of stuff. It's hard to put into words."

"Reid-don't go doing something stupid."

"I'm not! I'm not going to do drugs, Morgan."

Morgan studied his face, his stance and manner. Reid bore the scrutiny without flinching, and Morgan finally relaxed a little. "Okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay. I understand. I don't blame you for thinking that. But, I'm fine-I just need to go home."

Morgan shook his head as he cast about for something to say. He didn't like the idea of the kid driving home in the middle of the night in such a weird mood, but he really did seem to be in full control of himself. Maybe he was way off-base; maybe, he just didn't get it. He looked up at him. "You're not sorry we did this, are you?"

"No!" Reid ran a hand over his face. "No, it was wonderful. Please-don't be upset with me. I just really need to go. Okay?"

"Okay. If that's how you feel, I can't stop you." He held Reid's gaze a moment longer. "If you're sure you're going to be all right."

"Absolutely. I'm great, don't worry." He gave what he intended to be a reassuring smile. "Goodnight, Morgan. I'll see you tomorrow."

Morgan sighed, then nodded reluctantly and shrugged. "Okay. But, if you need anything while you're figuring things out, just call. You know-just... call."

"I will."

"Promise?"

Reid laughed. "Yes. I promise. Now, good night."

"Good night."

Reid raised a hand in farewell.

Then he was gone.


	4. Days After the Night

**A/N: Hello, loves! In this chapter, Reid and Morgan try to figure things out after their night together. And, another murder has tension mounting within the team. **

* * *

Reid got home, locked the door behind him and threw his keys on the kitchen counter. He took a quick shower, then crawled under the covers of his own bed and assessed the state of his tired body. His neck hurt; he thought maybe he'd pulled a muscle while twisting around to examine the crawlspace. There was a vague pounding behind his eyes, nothing unusual about that.

And, thanks to Derek Morgan, he was sore, but that wasn't so bad. He grinned slightly; after having gotten a good look at Morgan's fully erect member, he'd been prepared to limp away, crippled, but this light throbbing was nothing more than a nice reminder. His grin deepened as he thought of the noises Morgan had made, and of how he had held Reid's hips in a death grip once he got going, as if he were afraid Reid would somehow manage to slip out from under him.

Amazing sex. Phenomenal, really.

Morgan... It was funny, how oblivious he'd been to his signals. He wondered how long Morgan had felt that way. He supposed it started after Hankel-if it hadn't been for Morgan, he doubted he would have been able to reclaim himself from the trauma, from the drugs. Morgan had been a rock, had provided a kind, steady voice in his head to counter the crazy chatter that Hankel's insanity and the Dilaudid had unleashed.

Reid had never considered the possibility that attraction had had anything to do with Morgan's concern. He still didn't think it had. More likely, that attraction was dragged to the surface at some point afterward, maybe some night when Reid had called, desperate, and Morgan had dropped everything to come over and sit out a round of withdrawal with him.

Morgan was easily the best friend he'd ever had.

Going to bed with him had probably been a mistake. Something in Morgan's voice told him he might have mistaken his despair for something else, but he was too tired to worry about it now; he took his lamp setting down to "low" and turned on his side. Just closing his eyes and being still felt good, and his thoughts were soon wandering pleasantly. Then an image flooded into his mind, the dead girl's face, her eyes, and the numbers piled up, one on top of the other, and the thought struck him...

_Fourteen. She was only fourteen. _

A rush of grief welled up inside him, not just for her, but for all of them, for all the kids whose lives and deaths had crossed his path. He remembered them all, the ones who'd suffered, the ones who'd died through violence, and the one... the one who never got to live at all.

He angrily brushed away a tear, plumped up his pillow, and forced himself to concentrate on remembering how it had felt to have Derek Morgan, his good dear friend, pounding away inside him.

* * *

When Morgan awoke the next morning, he felt unsettled. He rolled over and looked at the empty half of the bed; a long brown hair on the indention in the pillow was the only visible sign that Reid had ever been there, but Morgan could have sworn he still felt his presence next to him. Resolutely, he brushed off the feeling and began to get ready for work.

He stepped into the shower and cranked up the hot water. He just stood there for a long time, turning to let the stream hit him in the face, on his back, his chest. He finally reached for the soap and lathered up, determined to shake himself out of the haze that Reid had left him in, wondering what the hell was so wrong that the damn kid couldn't even share a bed with him for one lousy night.

* * *

Morgan was still in the shower by the time Reid got to the office. He'd been determined to arrive early. He wanted to be at his desk, immersed in work when Morgan came in. Later, when he heard his voice, he glanced up, but avoided Morgan's eyes. He just nodded a greeting, and got a "Hey, kid," in return. They managed to go through the entire day without either of them saying another word directly to the other.

That evening, Reid made a point of leaving while Morgan was still closing down his computer.

* * *

In the days that followed their night together, Morgan couldn't get his mind off of Reid. There was the sex, of course-it was hard not to daydream about the skinny young man writhing warm and naked underneath him, the wet mouth on his hot skin, the way it felt to be inside him...

Keeping his hands to himself while sitting next to him in a meeting became a new kind of torture.

But, it wasn't just that. Morgan could feel the weight the kid was carrying around with him, and he was worried. The job took its toll on everyone eventually, but Reid-he'd begun his career at such a young age. He was stronger than he looked, Morgan knew that, but... Lying in bed alone, Morgan's mind kept grappling with ideas on what to do, how to help him, now that Reid seemed determined to keep him at arm's length, emotionally.

Morgan didn't like that, didn't understand. He thought of those first few months after Hankel, when Reid's distress had spilled out at work, so much so that he'd gotten in trouble with Hotch-something Morgan would not have believed possible. He thought of how the kid had finally broken down, telling him things he'd never put into words before, like how he felt about putting his mother in an institution, his father's abandonment, and how good it was when the drug had made him forget.

He thought of later, the two of them greeting midnight in a local all-night eatery, drinking coffee for hours. Those nights, Reid didn't say much, but Morgan had known he needed the company.

And, honestly, those had been the times when he could have seduced him. He didn't think it would have taken a lot; Reid had fallen asleep with his head in Morgan's lap more than once, he trusted him that much. If Morgan had been another sort of man, he could have parlayed that trust into sex quite easily.

But, he hadn't, not because he didn't want to, but because it wouldn't have been fair. Reid had been struggling with enough demons without his clouding the issue, and Morgan's restraint had been more than rewarded when he finally saw the brightness return to those beautiful eyes, when the amazing smile had again come easily to his lips, when he'd laughed.

If Morgan had missed his chance, well-he'd never questioned whether it was worth it.

But, now? He wasn't sure what path the two of them were on. One thing he was certain of-this time, somehow, Reid had taken the lead.

And, Morgan was confused as hell.

* * *

After yet another full day of Reid not meeting his eyes, Morgan trapped him in the break room and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey-you avoiding me, man?" He tried to use a teasing tone.

Reid looked up, flustered. "No. No, of course not. What makes you say that?"

"You haven't said two words to me since... the other night."

Reid shook his head. "Oh, well-I've just got a lot on my mind. I'm sorry, I wasn't-"

"Spencer. We talked about this. I'm not going to let our friendship get messed up just because we-you know, had a roll in the hay together."

"Shh!" Frowning, Reid looked past Morgan's shoulder, making sure they weren't likely to be joined by another team member. He turned his gaze back to Morgan, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come over that night. It wasn't right. I feel like I just... used you, or something."

"Hey-" Morgan glanced back at the door, then tipped Reid's face up to look into his eyes. "I was glad you came over, and I'm glad we did what we did. Don't go being all embarrassed just because you came to me for a little comfort. It was a hell of a lot better choice than some of the things you could have done. Right?"

Reid smiled sheepishly. "Well... yeah. I guess I've just been over-thinking things, as usual."

"Yeah. Well, I'm here for you, kid. Anytime. Give me a call, we can go grab some burgers, talk-whatever you need. I care about you, remember?"

Reid nodded.

Morgan smiled, patted Reid's shoulder and left. Reid turned to the counter and stood staring at his still-empty coffee cup. He reached for the pot of thick office grog and filled it, then added a fat pile of sugar.

Derek Morgan, he thought.

The last thing he needed from him was fast food and talk.

* * *

Three.

That was the number of weeks between the discovery of Amy Chappelle's body and this one. The latest victim's name was Julie Bedford and she was thirteen.

The team was gathered in the conference room and Hotch's mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"Come on, people. What do we have?"

"Nothing," Morgan answered bitterly. "This cat's not following any known pattern. We can't find a connection between him and the dump sites-"

"Because there isn't one." Reid frowned as he stood in front of the map board, a marker in one hand, arms folded across his midsection.

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked. "How can there not be? If he's not an owner or renter, then maybe he's a worker-a plumber, or electrician, or-"

"Garcia's researched every possibility along those lines," JJ said.

"It's not the dump sites. It's the victims." Reid's face was a mask of stony concentration. "We know from the autopsy reports that all the girls had particulate matter from dust and mold in their lungs when they died. That suggests that he took them all to the same place to kill them." He turned back to the table and punched the intercom button.

"Garcia?"

"Yes, dear boy."

"I need you to re-examine all of the victim's backgrounds, go through their parents' financial histories, relationships, everything-"

"Reid, I already did that! I've checked all of that-"

"Obviously, not thoroughly enough." Reid's voice was hard.

"Reid!" Morgan warned. "Watch your mouth."

Reid turned a grim look at him, but a chastened Garcia spoke up. "No, no, he's right-I was so focused on the dump sites, I probably missed something. I'm sorry, I'll get right on it."

Reid picked up his case file, glared at Morgan and strode out of the room. Morgan watched him leave, then noticed the rest of the team staring at him. He shrugged.

"I'll go talk to him. I want to know what he's thinking."

He found Reid in the file room, flipping through folders.

"What the hell is going on with you, man?"

"Nothing. I just don't need you correcting me in front of the team."

"Well, somebody needs to. I know you're frustrated, we all are-but it's no excuse to take it out on Garcia."

Reid stopped and faced him. "I wasn't. I was just pointing out that she missed something."

"We don't know that!"

_"I _know it. There's no connection between the houses that the victims were left in other than that, for one reason or another, they were uninhabited at the time of the dump. One was unfinished construction, one was a crack house shut down by the police. One was a perfectly nice place that was on the market to be sold. The one before this was condemned, the latest had been seized in an IRS audit. There's no common denominator between them other than the fact that they're empty, and in fairly close proximity to one another, which I believe indicates that the unsub finds them convenient."

"Ok, fine, but there's no connection between the girls, either. They don't live on the same block or in the same neighborhood; two of them didn't even live in the same town. Two went to the same school, but the other three didn't. Their families aren't related. One had a medical condition, but the others didn't. There's no common denominator between all of them."

"Of course there is. They're all between thirteen and fifteen years old, all blonde, all average height and weight for their ages-"

"Oh, wow! They're all average-there's a big clue!"

"I mean, they're all a type. The unsub's... type. He's choosing them for their age and physical characteristics, but no one's reported anyone unusual cruising their schools, there've been no reports of near-misses, of some creep making contact-I believe he's studying them, that he has the time and the opportunity to observe them at his leisure before going after them. They must have something else in common-a regular appointment with someone, maybe a therapist or an orthodontist-"

"Garcia would have found that through insurance records or credit card charges by now."

"Then, it's something else. A group activity-community theater, or lessons of some kind."

Morgan pursed his lips in thought. "Yeah. Something they could do cheap, or for free. Maybe something that could be paid for by cash or check. My sisters used to take singing lessons and my mom would just stick a twenty in an envelope every week."

Reid nodded. "Ok, we need to talk to the parents, find out what kind of extracurricular activities the girls were into. From the geographic coordinates, I believe that if we can figure out where he's finding them, we can also get an idea of where he takes them."

"Come on." They headed back to the conference room and soon JJ, Reid, and Morgan were on the phone, putting grieving parents through yet another interview.


	5. Talk

**A/N: Hey. I'm sick, wahhh... Anyway, in this chapter, Reid again shows up on Morgan's doorstep, and Morgan demands to know what's really bothering him. He doesn't get much of an answer. **

**And, there's a break in the case...**

**Hope you like it-Please review, dears. (sniffle...)**

**Seds**

* * *

Reid pulled into the parking lot of Bailey's Bar and Grill. The innocuously named establishment was actually a well-known gay hotspot. After doing some meticulous research, Reid had chosen it not only for the fact that it was popular (easy to disappear among the crowd), but clear over on the other side of town (far from any like-minded acquaintances who might recognize him). He sat in his car and watched the men milling around on the patio.

I can do this, he thought.

All he had to do was walk up to a stranger. Start an inane conversation. (What the hell would he say?) End the evening by skulking off to have anonymous sex with someone-anyone.

Thereby saving Derek Morgan from another ride on the Spencer Reid emotional roller coaster. He thought of being wrapped in Morgan's strong arms. A wrench of longing caught him, but he pushed it aside. No. He couldn't keep doing that to his friend, using him like a drug to get through the night. Morgan deserved better, deserved something-someone-infinitely better than himself. Morgan deserved someone who could love him. Reid rested his elbows on the steering wheel and buried his face in his hands for a moment, attempting to pull himself together enough to go inside.

Just then, a car pulled up next to him and a man got out. Older. Thick mustache, suit, no tie. He was on his cell phone, but he noticed Reid sitting at the wheel. He peered in curiously, then waved, gave him a predatory smile and tipped his head invitingly toward the bar entrance.

Reid stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. He sighed. No. It was no use, he couldn't do it. He started his car and backed out of the parking space, headed for the street. He drove around for a while, trying to work up the nerve to face going home, alone.

Thirty minutes later, he was on Morgan's doorstep. Morgan-well, Morgan would just have to deal.

He hated this, this weakness within himself. But, he couldn't bear the thought of spending the evening replaying the afternoon's phone conversations over and over in his mind. They'd all been horrible, but the one with Ted Roche, the father of the first dead girl, had been the worst. Mr. Roche had started off being calm and matter-of-fact. He'd wanted to help; he'd answered Reid's questions. Then, he'd broken down and cried, long painful howling sobs that made Reid guiltily hold the phone away from his ear. What right did he have to shield himself from that? The sound of him tearing open the wound in a father's heart?

They'd talked to the other girls' family members, but had only been able to contact two of the parents, and they still hadn't been able to find a common factor between all five victims. There was a glimmer of hope-the two moms each recalled that her daughter had at one time taken piano lessons from the same woman. Reid had had to call Mr. Roche back to ask about that specifically, but he didn't know, and his wife was out of the country on a business trip and not answering her phone.

So, they would have to pick it up again in the morning.

Reid rapped at Morgan's door. When it opened, he didn't speak, but Morgan read the desolation in his eyes and brought him inside. He closed the door and took him in his arms. A swell of emotion came up from Reid's throat and he shook with the effort of holding it back. Morgan spoke softly into his ear.

"Hey... It's okay. It's okay, let it out. Let it out on me, kid, I've got you..." Morgan brushed his lips over Reid's forehead and held him tightly. They stood there for a long while, with Morgan rocking him back and forth as he ran his hand up and down over the young man's back.

Finally, Reid pulled away. He looked into Morgan's eyes, offering a naked glimpse into his soul. The last time Morgan had seen that look, Reid had just asked him to flush a bottle of Dilaudid down the toilet. _I can't do it, Morgan. You'll have to do it for me... _Morgan caressed his face. "Hey, come on. Let's go sit down and talk."

Reid swiped a hand over his eyes and cleared his throat. "I didn't come here to talk."

"But-"

Reid looked at the floor. "I want to do what we did the other night." The words were spoken barely above a whisper, but Morgan heard them loud and clear.

"Spencer, no. I'm worried about you, man, I-"

"Come on, Morgan."

"Listen to me-"

Around the choked-back sobs came a disbelieving chuckle. "Are you really going to make me beg? Fine, I'm begging. Please, Morgan. Take me to bed. Please." He glanced up hopelessly.

"Reid, no. Look at me." Morgan put his hands on Reid's shoulders and made him face him. Reid's eyes, those beautiful dark eyes, troubled, determined-he saw there was no room for discussion. "All right. But, later? We're going to talk, whether you like it or not.

Reid held his gaze, then nodded. He headed for the bedroom, and Morgan followed. They undressed in silence, and Reid lay back on the bed, no longer caring that he was exposed, raw and vulnerable, to this man.

Morgan lay down beside him, then pulled him to him with one arm and kissed him, holding his chin firmly as he tried to jerk his head away. Now it was Morgan's turn to whisper, "Please." It took Reid a moment, but at last he parted his lips, and Morgan slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Reid moaned. It felt good, it felt right. God, it would be easy to lose himself in that kiss, to take Morgan down the wrong path. But he couldn't, he just couldn't do that to him. He twisted, tried to pull away, but Morgan simply tightened his embrace and continued his slow, gentle explorations.

Tenderly, he caressed Reid's mouth as if stroking the wings of a wounded bird. He pulled back and smiled at him, and lightly ran his fingers over Reid's face, then his lips. Then, he pushed the hair out of his eyes.

It was too much, that little kindness; Reid recoiled. "Morgan, don't," he rasped, his voice strained. He started to stand up, but Morgan pulled him back, feeling a swell of exasperation.

"What the hell, man? What'd I do? What the fuck's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry-this was a mistake. I need to go."

"No, you _don't. _You need to talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit! Why are you pushing me away like this?"

"You want too much, Morgan. You want something I can't give-"

"I want to know what's wrong!"

"No-you're looking for something-I don't know what. An emotional connection, maybe? With me? But, there isn't one, and there won't be. I'm sorry, but hat's not what this is about, let's not pretend that it is."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm not a lost child looking for someone to love him. I just want... I just want to get away from my mind for a little while. When I'm in bed with you, I can do that. In return, I'll... do whatever you want. Sexually." Reid's hands had been nervously flying, gesturing. Now, he grasped Morgan's face and looked into his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded tired. "Why can't that be enough? Let it be enough, okay?"

Morgan stared. He took Reid's hands and pressed a kiss into each palm, then squeezed them between his own. "Listen, kid. I'm not asking you for anything that you don't want to give. Sexually, or otherwise."

"Yeah, right." Reid took a deep breath and dropped his head. Morgan lifted his chin.

"I'm not. But, I want _you_ to understand-you don't have to be afraid of me. Or, of us. I just want you to know that."

Reid held his gaze for a long time before speaking. "I'm not afraid. I just don't want to hurt you, Morgan. And, if we keep going like this, I will."

"No, you won't-"

"Yes, I will. Look at us now! We're already making each other feel terrible. That's why I should leave. Before I do any more damage to someone I care about." He pulled away, but Morgan took him into his arms, tucking him against his chest.

"Now, you listen to me. I'm pretty tough, kiddo. I can take anything you can dish out." His voice had turned teasing, and Reid could hear the smile in his tone. He shook his head.

"I'm not joking. I can't... I'm not interested in a relationship. Not now, and maybe not ever. But, I think it's evident that you are. So-I should just... go."

"No." Morgan held him securely. "So, things are tough for you right now. I get that. I know you're not ready for... anything serious. Okay. But, you're hurting, man. You need to let go of it, to talk to someone. Why not me? You've always trusted me in the past. Why can't you trust me now?" He released his grip and searched Reid's face.

"I do trust you. That's why I'm here instead of..." Reid closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and gave Morgan a slight smile. "You're fooling yourself, you know. You think you're in control, that you can maintain an emotional detachment. But, I know you, and I'm sorry-you can't. You're not that kind of person."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "And, you are?"

A shrug. "More than you know."

"All right, fine, you're a cold-hearted bastard. I accept that. In fact, I give you full permission to fuck with my mind and break my heart into a billion little pieces. Now, will you relax?"

Reid's expression softened and he gave a small laugh. "Morgan, I don't want to do either of those things."

"That's okay-I happen to know you pretty well, too, and I happen to think you won't. And, if you do-well, let's just say, I'm willing to take my chances."

Reid slipped his arms around Morgan's neck, and for the first time in a long time, Morgan saw an impish grin cross the kid's face.

"So-having offered you full disclosure regarding the wickedness of my intentions, and having done due diligence in informing you of the hopelessness of the situation-you're still foolish enough to want to waste your time with me?"

Morgan kissed him, and was delighted when Reid kissed him back. He paused long enough to answer. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"Hmm. Leads me to question which of us is the unstable one. But, if that's what you want, fine, it's your decision." He wormed his way onto Morgan's lap. "So... if there's no more interrogation to be done, could we please get to that mind-blowing sex, now?"

"On two conditions."

Reid sighed. "What?"

"One, that you agree to talk to someone. If it can't be me, then Hotch, or Rossi."

Reid made a dismissive noise.

"All right then, a shrink, if that's what it takes. But, you can't go on like this. Whatever's getting to you, kid, sooner or later-it's going to take you out." He caressed Reid's face. "And, the team can't afford to lose you... _I _don't want to lose you. Understand?"

"Stop worrying. I'll be fine."

Morgan eased him onto his back, lay on top of him and stared into his eyes. "Promise me. Promise me you'll talk to someone."

"I'll think about it." At Morgan's frown, he added, "Okay, okay, I promise. What's the other thing?"

"That you stay. Sleep beside me tonight, Spencer. Wake up with me in the morning. Promise."

Reid blinked. _Damn you, Morgan, you just don't get it, do you? _Oh, well. He'd been as honest as he knew how, there was nothing more to be done to protect him. "Okay. Sure. If that's what you want."

Morgan smiled a little more triumphantly than Reid would have liked, then gave him a deep kiss. He took his time, kept steadying the fidgety young man under him, patiently helping him to focus and re-focus on what Morgan's hands and mouth were doing to him. Eventually, Reid did relax, lost himself in Morgan's touch, allowed himself to revel in the sweetness of warm kisses and the shivers of being lovingly caressed and tickled and stroked.

It was good. And, when at last he felt Morgan penetrate him, fill him; when Morgan hit his rhythm and their bodies moved together like music, when the powerful thrusting took him over the edge, Reid was someplace else. At that moment, his brain was engaged in something more compelling than memory. For just a little while, he forgot who he was, the things he'd done. Forgot the sight of a dead child's face and the goddamn helplessness that was eating him up inside.

When they finished, Reid rolled over and lay his head on Morgan's chest. He listened to his heartbeat and breathing as they slowed to normal. He felt Morgan's grip on him loosen as he relaxed into slumber. Reid gently extricated himself from his lover and lay beside him, eyes wide open, willing his mind to stay still and silent, for just a little while longer.

But, the clock ticked away the minutes. Reid stared at the ceiling, mentally flipping through image after image, drawing useless lines between multiple points on a compass.

* * *

The following morning, Reid sat with a phone and five file folders spread out before him on the conference room table. He dialed a number and a woman dully answered.

"Hello."

"Mrs. Watson?" Mrs. Watson's daughter, Taylor, was the third victim.

"Yes."

"Hello, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm an agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I'm working on a possible lead in your daughter Taylor's case, and I need some additional information from you. Do you have a moment to talk?"

Silence. Then, "I can't imagine what else you could want to know. I've answered every question in the world, and it hasn't done any good. That maniac is still running loose."

"We're working very hard to find him, ma'am. May I please ask you a few questions about your daughter?"

The woman's voice had a bitter, exhausted tone, but she answered, "All right. Go ahead."

"Ma'am, was your daughter ever involved in any kind of extracurricular activities?"

"Extracurricular? What do you mean?"

"Besides school, how did she spend her time away from home? Scouting? Volunteer groups? Something like that?"

"No, no, nothing like that. She was too focused on her studies. She was going to be... a doctor." Reid could hear the woman's voice falter. He cleared his throat.

"What about the arts? Dance, theater-music?"

"What?"

"Did she ever take any sort of lessons outside of school?"

"Oh, for God's sake. What has that got to do with anything?"

"Ma'am, please. It could be important." Reid bit his lip, hating to ask the next question in case the answer was "no." He took a deep breath. "Did Taylor ever take piano lessons?"

"Piano lessons?"

"Yes, ma'am. Did she ever take piano lessons from a woman named Jean Delaney?"

Mrs. Watson was quiet for a long moment. Then, she answered softly. "It was some time ago, but...yes. Yes, she did."


	6. A Break in the Case

**A/N: Howdy, ya'll! Ok, this is mostly case development, and it's pretty long, but I'd really like to hear from you-so, review, darlings! **

**xoxox**

**Seds**

* * *

The team was again gathered in the conference room, but this time there was a tight sense of anticipation crackling through the air. Garcia walked through the door, file folder in hand, and took a seat. Hotch briefly glanced at her, then continued with his rundown on the current state of the case.

"So, we have a profile of an organized sexual sadist, most likely an unattached white male between the ages of twenty-five and forty-two, sociopathic and possibly schizophrenic. He's been steadily escalating, which indicates his next kill could take place any time within the next two weeks. JJ, go ahead and release the updated profile to the media. Garcia-what do we have on the piano teacher?"

Garcia pushed her glasses into place on her nose and looked at her notes. "All right, folks, here goes, but I'm warning you-I will not be held responsible for any injuries resulting from narcoleptic episodes." Reid gave her a puzzled look, and she added, "This lady has not led a life of excitement. Jean Delaney is a native of Melrose, VA. She's 72 years old and has never been married, nor is there any record of her ever having had children. She taught school for twenty years and retired at age 50. She lives in a house at the intersection of Live Oak and Piedmont on the northern end of town; it's fully paid for and the deed is in her name." At this, Reid stepped up to the map and added a mark denoting Miss Delaney's residence. Garcia watched, then looked back at her file.

"Uh... she lives alone, no known living relatives. She's never been in trouble with the law, and she doesn't appear to have a car, credit cards-or a life, if you ask me." With that Garcia put down her folder and looked expectantly around the table.

"Doesn't exactly sound like our unsub," Morgan said dryly.

"She's not our suspect. It's someone... associated with her." Reid was staring intently at the map, his chin resting on his fist.

"We can't be certain no one else lives with her," Prentiss pointed out.

Garcia glanced at her notes. "True. She has a big house, plenty of room. But, there are no bank cards or checking accounts under any other name associated with that address. Of course, not everyone uses them."

Rossi tapped the table before asking, "What about her neighbors? Are any of them single, middle-aged men?"

"On one side, there's a single woman and her mom. On the other, there's a young family, two kids. Across the street- a couple of widows. Oh, and an older couple, the Hendersons."

"Have you checked out the male residents?" Rossi asked.

"Of course. Mac Henderson is fifty-three, an insurance salesman. He and his wife have been married twenty-seven years, they have three kids, two in college, one in high school."

"Sons?"

"All girls."

"What about the young man next door?"

"Rod Kellerman-he's twenty-four, works construction."

"Could be a connection," Prentiss mused.

Garcia shrugged. "No priors. And, he was out of town on jobs when two of the murders occurred. But, I'll give him another look."

"We need to find out when the victims took their lessons with Miss Delaney," said Rossi. "I'll start making calls-"

"Waste of time. And, you'll just upset the parents again." Reid spoke absently.

"Reid-what are you thinking?" Hotch was looking over his shoulder, observing Reid's stance. He was clearly deep in thought.

"Jean Delaney's house is in the geographic center of the dump sites. Knowing what we do now, there's no question that her home is the unsub's hunting ground. We just need to interview her, get her appointment calendar to find out when the victims were there."

"If she'll tell us," Morgan pointed out.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"She might be uncooperative."

"We should cross-reference the parent's recollections, anyway," Rossi said.

Reid shook his head, and the flash of anger that crossed his face wasn't lost on anyone. "That's not necessary. Why put them through that if we don't have to?"

"Rossi's right." Hotch stood up and put a hand on Reid's shoulder. He spoke firmly but quietly so that only Reid could make out his words. "We can't risk another child's life in deference to the other parents' grief. You know that."

Reid stared at Hotch for a moment, his breath coming fast. For a moment, he felt his anger rise to the point of spilling over. Then, he caught a glimpse of Morgan's face-he was shaking his head slightly in warning. Reid inhaled deeply and nodded.

"Fine. Of course. You're right."

Prentiss broke the tension. "Reid-you were looking pretty intently at that map. Was there anything else about the location of the house that you wanted to say?"

Reid shrugged, then tapped at the newest mark. "Her neighborhood-it's very old. In fact, most of the homes are antebellum. It's part of the original town settlement of 1821. The old downtown area is historic-it served as a sort of supply outpost for the Southern army. It's been a popular spot on Civil War tours for a long time."

"So?" Rossi asked.

Reid frowned and folded his arms. "I don't know. Perhaps there's some association through the Historical Society."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "All right. Prentiss, you and Rossi head to old downtown Melrose and see if you can find any connections to the Delaney residence. When JJ gets back, I'll have her start calling the parents. Reid, set up an interview with Jean Delaney. Morgan, go with him."

All four agents quickly dispersed, grateful to finally have something concrete on which to focus their energies. Morgan watched Reid head to his desk to make the call. He wished he could steal a moment to take him into his arms and just hold him. But, as usual, there wasn't time.

Which appeared to him to be the one thing Spencer Reid really needed.

Badly.

* * *

Morgan tried to talk to Reid on the way to the Delaney house.

"Reid-"

"Don't."

"Come on, man." He glanced at Reid. "You're over-identifying with the parents. That's totally understandable-I went through it myself. It's a normal human reaction. It's something you have to work through. You just have to think about the big picture."

"I understand that, Morgan."

"I mean, it's natural to want to save them more pain, but-"

"I was wrong. I admitted it. Let's drop it, okay?"

Morgan looked at him again. "I just wanted you to know, everyone goes through this-"

"I know. They train you on this at the academy."

For a moment, Morgan didn't answer. Then, he couldn't help but ask, "So-why'd it take you so long to go through this-"

"This rookie mistake? I have no idea. I guess I just woke up one morning, suddenly capable of feeling empathy. Hopefully, I'll get over it." Reid shifted irritably and looked out the window. Morgan lightly hit the steering wheel in frustration.

"So, now, I can't even talk to you?"

"I asked you to drop it." Reid turned and looked at him. "Please."

Morgan gave a dismissive shrug, then they remained silent for several miles. When they came to Piedmont Street, Reid said, "Turn left at the stop sign. Her house is the third from the end, on the right."

Morgan didn't respond, just focused on counting houses until he pulled up in front of Jean Delaney's.

* * *

3336 N. Live Oak St.

Morgan parked the SUV, then he and Reid got out and approached the rambling two-story house, pausing at the front gate to survey the area. "Lady's got a lot of room just for herself. She could have a whole battalion of unsubs stashed away in this place," Morgan noted.

"No vehicles. Everything's neat as a pin. Out here, anyway." Reid glanced up to the second floor; no movement, other than lace curtains fluttering out through open windows. He looked up and down the quiet, tree-lined avenue. "It's like Peachtree Street before the war."

"Huh?" Morgan gave him a puzzled frown.

"Where Aunt Pittypat lived. In _Gone with the Wind."_

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Not a favorite flick of mine, Reid."

Reid nodded understandingly. "My mom liked it." He strode up the steps to the wrap-around porch and peered through the screen door, then rang the doorbell. The agents stood patiently until a tall, slender woman with white hair opened the door. She was holding a yapping little dog.

"No, Coco! No, no-let Mommy talk to the nice gentlemen. Hello, I'm Jean. Are you the ones that called?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Special Supervisory Agent Derek Morgan." He offered his I.D., and Reid did the same, adding, "And, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid-we spoke earlier."

"Oh, yes, I remember. You have quite a nice voice, young man. Do you sing?"

"Uh-no, not at all. But, thanks. May we come in?"

"Yes, of course, come right in."

She held the door open and allowed the men to enter her living room. It was a large, airy room with a shiny wood floor and flowery upholstered furniture grouped in the middle. An upright piano sat at the far end of the room.

"Please, have a seat. Let me just put Coco in the other room. She's so excitable. Come on, baby..." Jean Delaney carried the small bundle of fury off to a room down the hall, then returned and sat on the other end of the couch from Morgan. Reid took a seat in a creaky rocking chair. Delaney smiled briskly.

"There, now we can hear ourselves talk. So, you're with the FBI! My, this must be important. You said something about a murder around here? That's just terrible, something like that happening in a nice quiet town like this. I can't imagine how I can be of help to you, but... Would you like something to drink? I have some Cokes in the fridge."

"No, ma'am, we won't keep you very long. We just have a few questions." Reid glanced at the piano before beginning. "So-you offer piano lessons here in your home. Do you ever go anywhere else-a church, or school? Your students' homes?"

"No, just here. I prefer not to leave the house if it's not absolutely necessary. I don't drive, you see."

"When did you start giving lessons?"

"Well, now, let me think. Mama passed away in '82; I guess it was about a year after that. I just got tired of sitting around with nothing to do, you know?"

Reid glanced at his case file, then met her eyes. "Ma'am, you said on the phone that you hadn't heard about the young women who have been killed in this area. How is that possible? It's all over the news, in the papers-"

"Oh, well, I don't read the papers, haven't in years. It's nothing but bad news. And as for the television, I have an old set in the back room, but it hasn't worked since 1987. Once it broke, I found I didn't miss it, and just never got around to having it fixed."

The men glanced at each other. Morgan spoke up. "Miss Delaney, have you not noticed that some of your students quit coming lately?"

The woman looked surprised. "Well, of course. But-that's not unusual. I mean, a lot of my students come just for a short time, then they stop, often without saying anything to me."

"Why is that?"

"Sometimes, kids just want to try out the piano, but they don't really take to it. Or, their parents make them, then see that they're simply not interested. People don't like wasting money on something their kids are not going to take seriously. For others, money gets tight, and they just drop out."

"And, you don't follow up?"

"Years ago I did, but it was always so awkward. Nowadays, I figure if they don't show up, they don't show up. I just quit worrying about it."

"What about the financial aspect? Isn't it a problem for you, losing students?"

"Oh, I don't do it for the money. I'm quite comfortable. Teaching is just a way to stay active, you know."

"So, your students pay by the lesson?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Cash?"

"Often. But, I take checks, too,"

Reid shot a look at Morgan. _That's why it took so long to find the connection._

Reid took up the interview. "Miss Delaney, we understand that you've recently given piano lessons to two young women, Julie Bedford and Amy Chappelle. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's correct." A look of concern crossed her face. "Why?"

Reid spoke gently. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this-but both girls were killed recently."

A stunned look crossed the woman's face. "Wait a minute-are you saying... Amy and Julie are...?"

Reid nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'm very sorry. Were you close to either of them?"

"No. No, not really, but... they were good students. I can't believe it. This is horrible-you say they were... murdered?"

"I'm afraid so. What about Taylor Watson, Kathy Johnson, and Camille Roche? Do you remember any of them?"

The woman stared first at Reid, then at Morgan. "Uh-oh, no. Oh, my God. Are they-"

"Yes, ma'am. And, the one thing we've found they all had in common is that they came to you for piano lessons."

Delaney brought a hand to her mouth. "This is unbelievable."

Morgan leaned forward slightly. "Miss Delaney, all of these girls were kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and murdered. We have reason to believe the man responsible had the opportunity to observe them while they were here. Perhaps he watched them take their lessons with you, or maybe he could see them as they arrived or departed from your house. Who else lives here?"

Delaney looked from one to the other, seemingly bewildered, then her eyes narrowed and her tone became indignant. "Wait a minute-are you asking... if a murderer lives in my house? Good Lord, no! No, I live alone, have for many years. Good heavens, the idea..."

Morgan spoke in a soothing voice. "Ma'am, that's fine, we just have to ask these things. What about workers-do you employee anyone on a regular basis? A handyman? A gardener?"

"I do all my gardening myself. I don't employ _anyone _on a regular basis."

"How about your neighbors? Have any of them expressed an interest in your lessons, maybe for their own kids?"

"No, I rarely see them, we've never discussed anything like that."

"Do you have any male friends or relatives that visit frequently?"

"I do not." She glanced down at her hands. "I'm here alone. That's the way I like it."

Morgan and Reid exchanged glances again. Morgan responded, "Well, would you mind if we had a look around?"

Delaney drew herself up straighter. "I most certainly would. I do not want strange men wandering around in my house. You'll have to get a, what do you call it, a warrant or something."

"Ma'am, we're not trying to cause you any trouble. We'd just like to-"

_"No." _The woman sat with her arms crossed over her chest and an adamant look on her face. Morgan gave a reluctant nod.

"All right. However, we do need to get a list of your current female students along with their phone numbers so we can notify their parents to be on alert. Also, we'll need a calendar showing the times you met with them, as far back as your records go."

"I can get that for you. Just a moment." She went to her desk, then returned with an appointment book and handed it to Morgan.

"Thank you. Now, please-contact us if you think of anything else, or if you notice something unusual, like a strange car parked nearby, or a man hanging around while you're giving lessons." Morgan handed her his card and she grudgingly took it. After a moment, her expression softened.

"Of course I will. I'm sorry, I do want you to find whoever did these... these terrible things. It's all just a little much to think about..." She pressed a hand to her lips and took a deep breath. "They were all such nice girls, how could anyone want to hurt them?"

Reid stood and straightened his jacket. "I don't know, ma'am. But, we're doing our best to find him. Thank you for your time."

The two agents nodded politely and headed back to the SUV.

* * *

Back at the BAU, the team compared notes. Prentiss and Rossi had come up empty; Morgan and Reid related their interview with Delaney, and now Morgan's face was twisted into a frown of concentration. "She's hiding something."

Rossi considered. "You think she's protecting someone?"

Reid shrugged. "I don't know. She certainly didn't want us looking around her house. And, we have absolutely nothing on which to base obtaining a warrant. But, we need to get in there-we don't have much time before the unsub takes his next victim."

Hotch buzzed Garcia. "Garcia-anything?"

"I got a fat lot of nothin', boss. Jean Delaney never goes anywhere and never does anything except teach piano, knit, and plant a garden. There's virtually no trail whatsoever from the financial end-she inherited a large amount of money from her parents, and lives off the interest. She contents herself with a once-a-month withdrawal of a thousand dollars, most of which I'm betting she uses to pay for groceries, utilities, yarn, and plant food."

"A thousand?" Morgan asked. "She's generous with herself, considering she doesn't have a house payment, doesn't own a car..."

Reid frowned. "Garcia, go further back, to the months before the first murder. Was there anything unusual? Any variations in her habits?"

Garcia was quiet for a long moment, the only sound coming from her fingers tapping at her keyboard. Then she made a drawn-out "hmm" sound. "Ok. Up until the time period we're looking at, Miss D was withdrawing no more than seven hundred dollars a month for her expenses. Then, she did a couple of oddball withdrawals of a few hundred dollars each. Then, she upped her regular withdrawals to a thousand, and that's been consistent ever since."

"Huh. Why the raise? That's more than a cost of living adjustment," Rossi pointed out.

"Was she being blackmailed?" Prentiss asked.

Rossi shook his head. "Three hundred dollars a month-that's pretty low-rent blackmail, considering her resources."

"It's more like she added another mouth to feed." Reid squinted at his map board. "Garcia-we know Jean Delaney was the only child of Sam and Martha Delaney. But, are we sure there were no other close family members? Someone she might be giving money to?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. I'm going to do something so far past illegal it isn't even funny."

The team sat frozen for a moment, listening to the sound of Garcia's madly tapping fingers. Suddenly, she made a noise that was somewhere between a squawk and a squeal. "Got it!" she announced triumphantly.

"What?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Jean Delaney had a younger sister. I missed her because the Melrose public records aren't computerized past 1979. But-the one funeral home in town just recently did a complete overhaul of their system and now every known grave site is listed in an easily hack-able database. And, there's only one Delaney family, at least prior to 1997. And, a Mary Delaney Sanford was born in 1933 and died in 1972. And... whoa."

"What?"

"She had a son. She died when he was three."

"What's his name?"

"Dudley Marcus Sanford, thirty-eight years old. His last known address was an apartment in Maryland, but that was over a year ago. He was kicked out for non-payment of rent."

"What does he do for a living?"

"Not much. He's worked some menial jobs. No criminal record, but here's something interesting-he's deaf."

"Deaf?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.

Prentiss got an excited look on her face. "He probably came to beg his aunt for a place to stay when he ran out of money; maybe he became fascinated by the piano lessons, since they centered around something so alien to him."

Reid nodded. "He may have been able to position himself so that he could feel the vibrations from the piano. A lot of deaf people enjoy music in that way. And, maybe he became sexually attracted to the girls while he watched."

Hotch narrowed his eyes. "We need something in order to get a warrant."

"Dude didn't carry those dead girls over his shoulder to the dump sites; he must have access to a vehicle," Morgan said thoughtfully.

More sounds of fingers tapping. Then, Garcia chortled. "He owns a twenty-year old Chevy pick-up truck."

"Wait a minute." Prentiss pointed at a file. "There was a report of an out-of-place green pickup in the area at one of the first sites. We could post surveillance to see if any such vehicle were to come or go from Miss Delaney's place. If it did, that would be enough for probable cause."

"I'm on it," Morgan said. He picked up the phone to set up the stake-out.


	7. Silliness

**A/N: Heyyyy, loves... A little humor in this chapter, and sexy-times, before we get to the heavy action part. Let me know what you think, please, good or bad-I'd really appreciate it! **

**Seds**

* * *

The afternoon wore on. Knowing there was surveillance on Jean Delaney's home felt good to Reid; it was real, something that would result in further action, something that would almost certainly lead them straight to the unsub-soon, he hoped, and in time to prevent another young girl from being taken.

But, knowing the stakeout was taking place made the waiting even harder. Every nerve was keen, every muscle poised for action, ready for him to slip on his vest and head to the car at a moment's notice.

Reid knew he wasn't the only one.

The tension within each of the team members was palpable. And, quite naturally, it led to...

Silliness.

Morgan snuck up on Garcia in the break room and goosed her, causing her to spill her tea. She retaliated, in spades, by enlisting Rossi's help-with the element of surprise on his side, he nabbed Morgan from behind, holding him securely while Garcia attacked with a can of red Silly String, leaving Morgan draped with what looked at first glace to Reid like Raggedy Ann hair dripping off of his shaved head.

Reid broke into laughter so hard, he doubled over and had to grab a desk for support. Morgan promptly twisted free of Rossi, grabbed Reid around the waist and wrestled him down onto the floor, then tousled his hair until it was a crazy, hopeless mop. "You think you're pretty, pretty boy? Oh, no, I'm gonna _make _you pretty!" By this time, Prentiss and JJ had joined the spectacle in the bullpen, and were laughing almost as hard as Reid. Hotch walked in, and everyone froze. He stared for a moment, then allowed a slight smile to sneak across his face and shook his head. He turned and walked away without saying a word.

Reid took the opportunity to escape Morgan's clutches, then he fluidly swiped Garcia's feather-tipped pen from behind her ear and threatened Morgan with it as if it were a sword. "Garcia-come on, give me a hand! Prentiss, JJ-help me!" The girls each grabbed one of Morgan's arms and, just for a moment, held him in place while Garcia yanked his shirt up, exposing his taut belly. Reid got in several good and thorough tickles, which dissolved Morgan into shrieking fits of laughter as he attempted to avoid the feathers while disentangling himself from the ladies without actually hurting them.

Somehow, they all ended up in a dog pile on top of Morgan while Rossi and Hotch watched in amusement from the catwalk in front of Hotch's office.

Rossi grinned. "No one can say you don't run a tight ship, Aaron."

Hotch's lips twisted into a smirk. "You know as well as I do how badly they need this. I wouldn't step in for the world."

Rossi patted Hotch on the back. "I know, you're absolutely right. I was just razzing you." Hotch nodded, then headed into his office, blissfully unaware of the post-it note reading "Kick me" that Rossi had just placed between his shoulder blades.

* * *

The 5:00 hour approached and by this time, everyone was somewhat more relaxed. Reid had had to borrow a brush from JJ in order to repair the damage that Morgan had inflicted to his long hair, yet he was in a good mood for a change. Morgan could see that, could feel it, and when Reid was alone at his desk, he came up to his side, put a hand on his shoulder, leaned down and said into his ear, "You coming over tonight?"

Reid turned to look at him, smiling. "Uh-yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, assuming we're not called off to go hunt down an unsub, I thought we'd cook out on the grill, then watch something on pay-per-view. How does that sound?"

To Morgan's immense pleasure, Reid's smile deepened. "Sounds great. What time? Assuming."

Morgan nodded. "Seven-thirty. Assuming."

"Okay. See you then." Reid looked into his eyes and Morgan squeezed his shoulder, then headed off to finish up for the day. Reid watched him walk away. He chewed his lip, wondering if it could possibly be real excitement he was feeling at the thought of an actual, normal _date_ with Derek Morgan, or if he was just grateful for the distraction.

He supposed it didn't matter. He turned back to his computer and began to close things down for the night.

* * *

Reid showed up with a bottle of wine. Morgan had stopped at the grocery store and had everything ready to go on the grill. Reid helped him, chatting amiably about something in which Morgan had absolutely no interest, but it made him feel good to see Reid acting more like his old self, for at least a little while. He teased him, seized every opportunity to make him laugh, and when they brought the food inside to the table, he took him in his arms and kissed him.

There was a moment's hesitation. Then he felt the lanky body relax against him, and Reid kissed him back. Morgan took his advantage, made the most of it, until Reid chuckled and slipped away from him. Morgan gave him an exaggerated frown. "Where you going?"

"Nowhere." He went to sit down and invitingly patted the seat of the other chair. "Hey, come on, sit down! Our food's getting cold, and I'm really hungry." Morgan reluctantly followed, smiling, still savoring the taste of Reid's warm mouth. He stole one more kiss before sitting down to serve their meal.

They ate. They talked, although now it was mostly Morgan, relating some funny stories about his family-old times in Chicago-and Reid listened, seemingly fascinated. Afterward, they carried the dishes into the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher together. Morgan tried not to think about how nice it all was, this pleasant hominess.

Cooking, eating, having Reid around, having his company all to himself, it all felt great. That, and knowing there was a very good chance that they'd be having sex later, that they'd be, well, like lovers-damn it, it felt... _normal. _Just... normal. He put in the dish washing powder, turned on the machine, and stepped back as the water whooshed in and the dishwasher churned and shook and soothingly did its thing.

Reid wiped down the counter, then washed his hands, and turned to ask, "So-pay per view, huh? What's on?"

"Don't know. Let's check it out."

They sat on the couch. Morgan placed himself somewhere near the middle, and Reid chose a spot close to the end, but he didn't flinch when Morgan moved closer and put his arm around his shoulders. After a moment, he settled back, letting his head rest against Morgan's arm, and to Morgan, that felt like heaven.

They cheerfully argued about what to watch. They finally came to an agreement, then Morgan wrapped Reid in his arms and possessively tucked him under his chin, rather like a kid with a large, skinny teddy bear that no one was going to take away from him. Reid rolled his eyes and protested, but only made the most perfunctory attempt to escape, then gradually found himself working his way closer to Morgan's warmth, and he found that he liked it.

He let himself like it.

* * *

Later that night, Reid lay under Morgan, feeling him thrust deeply into his body. The man's weight pleasantly compressed his pelvis and stomach, the thrusts were strong and regular, and he smelled wonderful-crisp and spicy and clean. Reid ground his hips upward, increasing the friction. He made low noises and gripped the muscular shoulders tightly as he fought to reach orgasm.

"Harder, Derek..."

Morgan adjusted his angle and increased the power behind his thrusts. He was rewarded with a gasp and a grunt of pleasure. He whispered, "That feel good, baby?"

"God, yes..."

"That what you been needing?"

"Yeah..."

"Fuck, Spencer-" Morgan groaned with his efforts, thinking how goddamned sexy Spencer Reid really was, his smile, his eyes, the way he turned into a total kid when he finally broke down and laughed, which was nowhere near often enough.

And, he thought of how delicious it was to have him like this, naked, legs wrapped around him, giving himself to him completely; funny how demanding he could be in his supplication. Morgan liked that, liked being driven to the edge and challenged by the normally unassuming young man, liked how, with his cock deep inside him, Reid seemed to belong to him, even though he knew better. He watched every rise of pleasure cross Reid's face, and he loved how, in this most intimate, primal way, he knew-it was _him_ making Reid feel like that.

He thought of how gorgeous Reid was, not only before and during the act, but after-especially after-hair tousled, eyes dark, lips parted. Then, he shot into him and dropped his head so that his forehead rested on Reid's as his breathing slowed, and after a long moment, he claimed a kiss.

Then, it occurred to him that Reid still hadn't come. Reid had begun stroking himself, but Morgan pushed his hand aside and took over, still lodged deeply inside him. "No, babe-let me," he whispered. "I want to make you come." Reid didn't argue, just moaned and whimpered as he arched, straining into Morgan's grip, and it didn't take long for Morgan to bring him to release. Thick streams of ejaculate spilled onto his hand, and he felt the tension in Reid's body ebb away.

Morgan reached for a towel, cleaned them both up, then rolled over onto his back and pulled Reid into his arms. He didn't resist, and there was no talk of him leaving-in fact, he was asleep before Morgan, this time. Morgan smiled, turned off the lamp, and drifted off, lulled by Reid's even breathing and the warm heat of his skin pressed securely against his own.

* * *

Reid dreams. He's standing in front of a line of store fronts, vaguely recognizes it as a shopping center that his mother used to take him to when he was little. He sees Morgan standing at the end of the street; he's waiting for him, gesturing, urging him to come on, hurry up, and Reid desperately wants to go to him, but suddenly he realizes that a young boy is standing in front of him, frantically waving his arms to get Reid's attention. He's talking, but Reid can't understand the words, he can't be bothered to try, he starts to walk away, but the boy grabs his hand and pulls him back. Now, the words come through, pleading, hopeful, and they reach his consciousness, but they don't make any sense.

_I knew you'd come... don't go, I've waited for so long..._

Reid asks, _Me? You've waited for me?_

_Yes..._

Reid's trying to get to Morgan, but the kid won't let go. Reid finally stops and looks down at him.

_Why? Why me? I'm not who you think I am. Let me go. I'm nobody. I'm nobody... _

Reid can still hear Morgan, his calls are commanding, but faint, and Reid can't move. He tries to make out the words.

_It's gonna blow_, Morgan says.

Reid can't see him now, and the kid's grip is cutting off the circulation in his arm, then the bomb blast goes off and the glass starts breaking-Reid feels the intense pressure of the air whipping by, feels shrapnel entering his skin, but he's okay, he's just watching, but suddenly he feels the grip of the boy's fingers loosen, and then the boy is gone and he can't see Morgan, and now a hearse is going by.

"Damn it," he thinks. The hearse slows, and he bounds up to look inside. The boy, the boy, he's lying in there, broken and bleeding, pieces of him missing. Reid shakes his head as a powerful sorrow overtakes him and he cries out, "No! Don't take him, I just found him!" and the hearse pulls away. Reid runs beside it, pounding on the side and screaming, and at last it stops once more-he flings open the back doors, thinking, "He can't be dead!" but the boy's gone, and now it's him, Reid, he sees himself lying lifeless and broken in the back of the hearse...

He jerks awake.

Reid's moans and babbles woke Morgan and he groggily murmured, "It's okay, it's okay-wake up, kid, it's just a dream-"

_"Morgan, please, stop them! Morgan, stop them! _What? What? Oh... Oh. I'm sorry. Sorry I woke you up-"

"That's okay, you're here with me, it's all right. I've got you." He held the shaking man, held him close and rubbed his back soothingly until Reid relaxed and settled in against him. Morgan tilted his face up and looked into his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was... just a dream."

Morgan held him, then asked, "Have you found someone to talk to? You said you would, remember?"

"No, I-I will. When this case is over, then I'll-"

"Reid. Don't wait, there'll just be another case, and-"

"I know. I know... I will, Morgan, maybe after this one, I'll take a little time off, and-"

"Yeah. That's a good idea. Shh, it's okay. Can you go back to sleep? Everything's all right now, go back to sleep."

Reid nodded and nestled closer. "I'm okay. I'm sorry, it was just so-seemed so real, and-"

"I know. Shh. It's okay." He kissed his forehead, and felt the young man's ragged breathing slowing, his agitation dissolving. He pulled the covers up around them, aware of Reid's heartbeat calming against his chest.

They had just slipped back into slumber when Morgan's phone went off. He startled, instantly fully awake, and he checked the time. One forty-six AM. He took the phone in his hand and looked at the number. It was JJ. He took a deep breath and answered.

"Morgan."

"Hey. Another girl's been reported missing from the Melrose area. She's one of Jean Delaney's students. Hotch wants us to meet at the local P.D., stat."

"On my way."

Morgan clicked off, and turned to Reid. "Another girl-"

"I heard." Just then, Reid's phone rang-it was JJ, with the same message.

The two agents rolled out of bed and began getting dressed.


	8. A Good Day

**A/N: Hey, there! So-in this chapter, Reid and Morgan finally get to confront the unsub (well, he's not "un" anymore, but, you know...) So, there's a teensy bit of violence and such. Hope you like...  
**

* * *

1:57 AM.

The two agents hastily threw on their clothes and hurried out the door, doing last-minute checks to their weapons as they strode to their vehicles. Morgan slid behind the wheel of his SUV, and Reid grabbed his vest and radio from his car, then hopped in beside him. He was buckling his seat belt when Morgan said wryly, "Hope we don't end up having to explain to Hotch what we were doing together at 1:00 in the morning."

Reid glanced at Morgan and shrugged. "It's simple. I came over to watch television with you and was so bored that I conked out on the couch. You didn't have the heart to wake me up." A smart-ass grin crossed his face and Morgan chuckled appreciatively as he guided his car out onto the street.

"Fine, but I'll let you do the talking, since you seem to be so good at lying."

"It's not lying-I _was _bored and I _did_ fall asleep on the couch. If he asks, I'll just... omit a few key facts for our own good. Like the part about how I woke up when you stuck your tongue in my ear, and how I got up and followed you into your bedroom, and then we took off our clothes and got into bed together. Anyway, trust me, we'll be doing Hotch a favor. He doesn't want to know about our chosen means of stress-relief."

Morgan looked over at Reid, who was obliviously fiddling with his radio earpiece. _Stress relief, huh? Still going with that one, are you, pretty boy? Damn, I could have sworn there was a little bit of tenderness between the two of us tonight... _Oh, well. He nodded. "Good point."

As they took the highway exit toward Melrose, Morgan's phone rang. It was Hotch. "Yeah, Hotch."

"Where are you?"

"Just outside of Melrose. I'll be at the station in ten."

"Change of plans. They spotted a vehicle matching the description of Dudley Sanford's truck heading into town. I want you to go to Jean Delaney's, but meet up with the detectives at the 1700 block of Rampart Street first-they've got a warrant. I've called off surveillance and am holding back on the local police. We don't want to tip him off."

"Who'll be meeting me from the team?"

"Everyone else is on the wrong side of the highway. There's a wreck up north that's got traffic in a snarl. You'll have to make do with the locals until we get there."

"Uh-I've got Reid with me."

One beat. Then, "Excellent. We'll see you ASAP. In the meantime, be careful."

Morgan clicked off his phone and explained, "They spotted Sanford's truck-now, we're headed straight to Delaney's. The rest of the team's on the way."

Reid nodded. "What did Hotch say when you told him we were together?"

Morgan grinned. "You were right, kid. He doesn't want to know."

Reid returned the grin, but it faded quickly as he trained his focus onto the challenge they were about to face. The vision of Amy Lynne Chappelle's small body, wedged in the wall with her dead gaze fixed upon him-Reid's jaw clenched as he gripped the handle of his gun. Not another dead girl, he thought_. Not tonight. _

That was just not going to happen.

* * *

The two agents parked down from the unmarked police vehicle and conferred with the two detectives. They put on their flak vests and earpieces, and Morgan received the warrant giving them the right to search Delaney's premises. They were soon joined by officers in a police cruiser.

They all strode up to her front porch, and Morgan banged authoritatively on the door, calling, "FBI! Jean Delaney, open up, please, we need to speak with you!" Several minutes passed before the nightgown-clad woman querulously opened her door.

"Good lord, what a racket you're making-it's the middle of the night! What in God's name is going on?" She peered past Morgan's stern face, took in the small battalion of law enforcement, and blinked.

"Ma'am, we've had a report of a vehicle matching the description of one belonging to Dudley Sanford heading this way. He's your nephew, isn't he?"

The woman's eyes grew wide and her mouth opened. "Y-yes-but, what do you want with him?"

"He's a suspect in the murders of the young girls that we interviewed you about. You remember, right? Your students? Another one is missing, and we believe he may have brought her here, hopefully, still alive. Now, please-do not waste any more time. Is he here?"

"No! I haven't seen Dud for days-he's not here, no one is, I swear to you!"

As Morgan dealt with Delaney, Reid and the detectives searched the house, while the locals did a sweep of the exterior premises, but no one had any luck. However, one of the officers came in and announced that the green truck was parked in back, behind the detached garage, and that there was fresh blood on the back seat. He'd also found a basement entrance that appeared to have a bloody thumbprint on it. Reid returned to Morgan's side and listened to the woman's impassioned protests-her nephew had not come in that night, she was sure of it.

Reid laid a hand on Morgan's arm and gestured for him to join him out of Delaney's earshot. Morgan gave him an angry glance, but stepped aside with him, leaving Delaney in the hands of one of the detectives.

"What the hell are you doing? I was finally getting somewhere with her!"

"No, you had her so terrified, she couldn't think straight."

"I got no problem with that, I just want to know where the nephew is before he kills that girl."

"Yes, but she really doesn't know, or, at least, she doesn't know that she knows. Forget it, Morgan, she's telling the truth. She never saw Sanford come in."

"Then, where the hell is he?"

"If you'll give me a minute with her, I think I can figure it out."

Morgan expelled a gust of air, then pinned a sharp look on Reid. "Be my guest. But, you better be right."

Reid went to Delaney's side. She was shaking and crying and she looked helplessly at Reid. "I don't know where he is!"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand that. But, I need for you to be honest with me. Was Mr. Sanford living here?"

Delaney glanced at Morgan's scowl, then turned her focus to Reid. "Yes," she whispered.

"And, where did he stay, when he was here? None of the bedrooms besides yours seem to have been occupied."

"He-he liked his privacy. He preferred to stay in the basement. You can go in and out from the outside, as well as from inside the house."

Reid glanced at the officers who had just returned from the outside. "Did you check the basement?"

"Yeah, but nobody's in there. It's completely clear."

Reid turned back to Delaney. "How do you get to the basement from inside?"

"The kitchen," she said weakly.

Reid strode past the weeping woman and found the door in question. He opened it; a single bare low-watt light bulb lit the area, and there were stairs leading down into a typical basement room. Reid pulled his gun, then looked behind him. "Morgan-I need backup." Morgan gave him a narrow glare, but hastened to him and followed him down the creaky steps. They quickly did a sweep of the room, noting the old couch with blankets carelessly thrown aside, and a dirty plate and glass left on a battered coffee table. At the far end of the exterior wall, a set of stairs led to an exit. "He could come and go as he pleased, and Delaney would never know it."

"Yeah, fine, so he was here, but the cops were right-he's not anymore." Morgan disgustedly replaced his weapon in its holster. "He must have gotten tipped off and made a run for it. Come on, let's go-there's nothing to see down here."

Reid shook his head. "No. Hotch pulled the locals as soon as the truck was spotted coming into town." He began walking along the interior wall, running his hand in an exploratory manner over the wood paneling. "He wouldn't have seen anything unusual when he arrived."

"So, he probably heard us come in while ago-"

"He's deaf, remember?"

Morgan threw his hands up impatiently. "So-he must have felt a lot of strange vibrations as we tromped around above his head. He's gone, Reid, we're wasting time-"

"I don't think so. I think he's still here."

"Where? There's no other room, no doors-"

"This house is in an area that was well-known as a stop on the Underground Railroad. It's possible that there's a hidden room down here, used to hide slaves on their journey to freedom." Reid paused and pressed his ear against the wall, holding his hand up to silence Morgan. "I hear something." Morgan joined him. He listened hard, and sure enough, he could hear the faint sound of a wailing girl.

"All right-let's find a tool and bash through this wall-"

"No, Morgan! If he senses us coming, he'll just go ahead and kill her-we have to find the latch to the hidden panel." Reid was forcing himself to stay calm, to not let his determination get in the way of his rational thinking. He took a flashlight and ran it along the baseboard. It was dusty and discolored, but about two-thirds of the way along the wall, there was a clean spot. Reid pressed his toe against it, and discovered a cut-out that gave way. Inside was a lever. Reid stepped down on it, and a panel of the wall slid open.

"Damn," Morgan breathed. He gave Reid an admiring glance, then Reid pulled his weapon and entered, Morgan following behind. There was an unlit, crudely-built passageway, so low that both men had to walk carefully so as not to bump their heads. Reid ran the beam from his flashlight ahead of them-at the end of the passageway was a door. A line of illumination shone at the base and the wailing sound became louder, now punctuated by muffled screams. Reid listened; he nodded. "They're on the other side."

Morgan looked at Reid. Reid looked at Morgan. He stepped back to give his partner room. Gun drawn, Morgan took a deep breath, then sent a well-aimed kick to the door, and it swung open effortlessly. "FBI! Put your weapon down!" Morgan cried.

A camp lantern illuminated the musty room. It smelled of earth and blood. A middle-aged man was kneeling on the floor between the legs of a nearly-naked young girl, and he looked up, startled confusion on his face. He held a knife, which he was using to cut off pieces of the girl's clothing. Her wrists were bound above her head with rope, secured to a support pole in the middle of the room, and there were dark stains on the floor. She had a bandana tied around her mouth; tears wet her cheeks. She looked at the agents with wild eyes and began frantically trying to plead with them.

The man rose to his feet and took a swipe at Morgan with the knife, but he easily deflected it and knocked it out of his hand. Morgan kicked it to Reid before punching the man hard enough to send him flailing to the floor, then pulled handcuffs from his belt. He flipped the man onto his belly, dropped his weight onto his midsection and wrestled his arms behind him. As he clamped the cuffs onto Dudley Sanford's wrists, Reid went to the girl and freed her from the rope. She pulled the bandana away and threw her arms around him, sobbing hysterically.

Reid held her tightly and murmured softly, "It's ok. It's ok, now. Don't worry, we've got him. Everything's going to be all right." He helped her to her feet as Morgan called for the officers to come collect Sanford, then asked her "Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"My... head," she said between gasping sobs. "He... hit me over the head."

"Ok. Look at me, follow my finger. What's your name?"

"L-Laurel."

"What's your last name, Laurel?"

"Dobbs."

"Ok, Laurel, can you walk?"

"Y-yes. I think so."

Reid unfastened his vest and took off his jacket, then put it over her bare shoulders. He guided her through the labyrinth of the basement and up into the night air. She clung to him until they exited and saw her mother and father waiting anxiously with an officer. At the sight of them, she took off running.

Morgan came to stand beside Reid. They were joined by the detective who had been grilling Delaney, and together they watched the reunion.

"What did Miss Delaney have to say for herself?" Reid asked the detective.

"Long story. Her sister disappointed her parents by getting pregnant at an early age. Jean helped her raise the kid. He was troubled, but she always chalked it up to the challenges of being deaf. Her sister wasn't very responsible, a real party girl, and Jean ended up being his primary caregiver when his mother died in a car accident.

"He got tired of her doting on him and left for a while, but he ended up on her doorstep about a year ago. She gave him money every week, and let him crash in the basement whenever he came around. Said she didn't see him for days at a time."

Reid nodded. "He could come up through the kitchen and secretly observe her giving lessons from the dining room. He could see the girls and feel the vibrations from the piano coming up through the hardwood floors. Delaney probably never even suspected that he was there."

Morgan's lips twisted into a sneer of indignation. "But, she lied about not having any male relatives staying with her! How could she do that, knowing those girls were dying?"

Reid stared at the ground, then raised his eyes to Morgan's. "Her nephew was probably her reason for living. She saw him as she wanted to see him-damaged, helpless, in need of her protection and care. The person she had created in her mind was not capable of murder."

"That's stupid."

Reid shrugged. "I can understand it. Self-delusion can be a powerful tool in maintaining one's sanity." _I know. I know what it's like to create your own reality, where everything's okay. The hard part is when you find out that it isn't..._

Just then Laurel and her parents came up to them. Laurel was wrapped in a blanket and, with a shy smile, she shakily handed Reid's jacket back to him. He took it and gave her an encouraging smile in return. Laurel's mother stepped forward.

"Thank you-thank you so much for saving our little girl," the woman said brokenly.

"Yes-we just wanted to let you know... how grateful we all are," the dad added as he shook each agent's hand. Laurel nodded as she clung to her mother.

"We're just happy that your daughter's all right," Reid said.

Morgan smiled. "Yeah-this was a good day for us."

"Well, thank you again. God bless you," the mom said as they both threw an arm around their daughter and hugged her. An officer came to lead Lauren to the ambulance that had just arrived. Reid and Morgan watched them walk away. Some of the police cars were beginning to disperse and then Hotch appeared. He strode up to them, a slight smile on his face.

"Good work, you two. Reid, how did you know there was a hidden room?"

"I've done quite a bit of reading about the Underground Railroad. This area figured prominently in its history-it's within easy access of the river, so it was heavily trafficked by escaped slaves before the war. I did some research on Delaney's house-it was built by a Union sympathizer named Barlow, so I figured there was a chance he'd have been involved in helping to facilitate their flight.

"I also knew that Sanford took his victims to a dusty, moldy location where he could spend a lot of uninterrupted time with them. Clearly, he wasn't concerned about his aunt discovering him, which was strange, given that he couldn't count on hearing people approach to warn him. So, I knew it had to be a secluded place on the property where Jean Delaney wasn't likely to venture. When I heard that he lived in the basement, it occurred to me that he'd have had plenty of time to explore-he must have come upon the secret panel at some point, and everything just fell into place for him."

"Guess we're lucky to have a pretty-boy genius on the team, huh, Hotch?" Morgan grinned and playfully ruffled Reid's hair.

"I'd say we're lucky to have both of you." Hotch's smile deepened; Morgan's fond look at Reid wasn't lost on him, even though he chose to disregard it.

"I'm just along to kick in the doors," Morgan quipped.

"Well, you make a good team."

"So-what now?" Reid asked.

"Make your reports, then go home. I'd say you've earned a day off." Hotch turned to head back to meet Prentiss and Rossi, who'd just arrived, to tell them things had been satisfactorily wrapped up for the night.

Reid and Morgan did as Hotch instructed. When they were through dictating their recollections of the night's events, they pulled off their vests and trudged to Morgan's car.

"So... What do you want to do?" Morgan asked.

"Oh... just take me back to my car, then I'll go home. I need to get some sleep."

Morgan glanced around, then said ruefully, "And, I guess you couldn't do that at my place."

Reid gave him an apologetic look, but his voice was firm. "I really just want to be alone right now. I'm sorry." He started to walk to the passenger side, but Morgan caught his arm.

"That's okay, but, come on, kid. Take a minute to enjoy this. We-you-saved a life tonight and took a killer off the street. That's a damn good feeling to have-don't push it away and lock it up as if it wasn't important."

Reid stared at him for a moment, then pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I won't. In fact, maybe we can get together with the team this evening and do a little celebrating. I think I'll be ready for it by then-assuming."

"Assuming?"

"Assuming another case doesn't start up between now and then." A smile crept across his face and Morgan nodded knowingly. He let Reid go, and they got in the car and went back to Morgan's place. They got out of the SUV, paused to look at each other for a moment, then Reid threw his arms around Morgan and gave him a big hug. "Um-thanks for being there tonight. And... well, always." He gave a small, rueful laugh. "Don't know what I'd do without you."

Morgan clamped his hands on Reid's shoulders. "You did good tonight, kid. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks... Well, good night. See you later, okay?" Reid then went to his battered Volvo, got in, waved, and pulled out onto the street.

Morgan watched as he drove away and disappeared around the corner, and he sighed. He locked his car and went into his house, determined to lie down, close his eyes and sleep, in spite of being bone-tired and achy by now.

He took some ibuprofen, stood under a hot shower, then threw himself under the covers and tried not to think about how empty his bed felt without Reid lying next to him.

* * *

**A/N: This is not the end! We still have to find out Reid's secret from the past. Plus, he has to realize he's falling in love with Morgan. More soon! **


	9. Celebration

**A/N: Aughhh, I've had a hell of a time with this chapter, for some reason. Hope it was worth it-it's mostly humor and plot development, but I'm trying to get our boys together. Warning-alcohol usage in this chapter! **

**Please review, loves.**

**Seds**

* * *

6:45 PM.

Reid's phone buzzed on the nightstand where he'd left it hours earlier, right next to his head. He groaned, struggled to wake up and fumbled for it, then checked the number. Morgan. He flipped it open and gasped, "Hey."

"Hey. Where are you? Everybody's here already, even Hotch."

"Oh..." Reid rubbed a knuckle into one bleary eye and forced himself to focus until the words meant something to him. Oh, yeah. The end-of-case celebratory drink-a-thon... He'd promised to meet the team at the bar at 6:30. He couldn't believe he'd slept so long, but, God, he'd needed it. Even now, he felt as if he could sleep for a month. "Right. Sorry. I'll be there in a few."

"Okay, man. But, you better hurry. These party animals are getting the jump on you-you don't want to be the last one sober, or they'll all make you drive them home."

"Good point. Don't worry, I'll be there." He started to click off, but Morgan said, "Reid?"

"Yeah?"

Morgan paused a moment before asking, "You okay?"

Reid stared up at the ceiling and smiled at the concern in the warm voice. It was the voice he'd heard comforting him while lying in those strong arms, the voice he'd heard in his dreams. Something about it just made him want to curl up next to the man and nestle into his chest. "Yeah, I'm fine. Stop worrying."

He could hear Morgan sigh. "I'm not. I'm just... checking."

Reid made himself sound a little more cheerful. "Honest, I'm fine! I just slept too long, that's all. Really, don't worry. I'll see you soon."

"Okay."

"Hey, Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't overdo it on the booze, yourself. I have a feeling you're going to have to drive _me _home." Morgan could hear Reid's smile through the phone. It sounded damned good, and he smiled, too.

"Absolutely no problem, kid. It'd be a pleasure."

Reid's smile widened. He sat up cross-legged on the bed, thinking. Morgan in his dreams, good dreams, he'd felt so secure lying next to him, and now... He had to tell him. Had to tell him he'd figured some things out, tell him he'd been wrong about a lot of stuff, wrong about... But, the words wouldn't come, and instead he hedged. "Yeah. I, uh, want to... I really want to see you. You know?"

Morgan nodded, feeling a little charge of happiness warm his chest. "I want to see you, too. So, hurry up and get your ass down here, and-"

"No, Morgan-I mean... I want to see you, and... I want to talk. Later, when it's just us. Tonight."

Morgan listened to the silence, mentally checking to make sure he'd heard right. "Wow. Damn. That's... That's great, babe. I'd really like that."

Reid laughed, already feeling more relaxed. He teased, "Of course, I want to do some other stuff, too."

Morgan chuckled. "Me, too. Definitely."

"Yeah. But-I wanted you to know that-that's not the only reason I... I mean-I'm sorry, Derek. I know I've been-"

"It's okay. Don't apologize. I just... I just can't wait to see you. You know, later. When it's just us."

"Me, too."

"Okay, Spencer. Later."

"Later." Reid clicked off, stood up and walked to his bathroom to make himself presentable. He stared at his image for a moment. He was looking forward to the first drink of the evening. Maybe it would make things easier.

Later.

* * *

10:33 PM

"Clearly, Reid can't hold his liquor," Prentiss observed as she swirled ice in a glass filled with amber liquid.

"He doesn't drink very often," JJ noted. "Maybe we should take him out more, get him used to it."

Prentiss shook her head. "I don't think it would help. He's tall, but he has no body fat-the booze just shoots through his blood stream and goes straight into his giant brain and scrambles all his circuits."

Garcia snickered. "Yeah, there's no padding on him anywhere to soak it all up."

"You know, I've never seen him drunk," Rossi said thoughtfully. "Somehow, I don't think he would have reached this point on his own." He cast a chastising look at Garcia, then spoke directly to Morgan. "She's cruel, isn't she? Reminds me of those people who blow marijuana smoke into their dog's noses to get them high."

Garcia opened her mouth in mock horror. "How can you say that? I'm just trying to help the boy loosen up!" Garcia's methodology for "loosening Reid up" had included daring Reid to throw back a series of tequila shots, then surreptitiously supplementing his gin and tonic with straight gin.

"I think you succeeded." Prentiss gestured in the direction of the bathroom, from which Reid unsteadily emerged. He attempted to negotiate his way back to the table, but his long, lanky legs were no longer working in tandem with one another, and he wavered for a moment with his hands outstretched, obviously recalculating his route before taking another few steps.

"I don't think he's going to make it," Hotch said dryly.

"He'll be okay. I'm just glad he finally came out. I thought I was going to have to go in there and pick him up off the floor." Morgan was watching his lover's progress with a half-smile on his face, but inwardly he was worried. Reid really wasn't much of a drinker-and, if he needed to get thoroughly blitzed before finally having the kind of talk he'd hinted at, that was not a good sign for their relationship. Morgan studied the label on his beer bottle and tried to fight off feelings of disappointment.

Suddenly, he felt the team's attention being seized and he looked up. They all watched in amazement as a pretty girl who'd been standing at the bar waylaid Reid, and after only a moment's persuasion, led him out onto the dance floor. Morgan's lips twisted into a disgusted smirk; the girls hooted in delight.

"I don't believe it." Rossi swallowed down the last of his drink and shook his head in mock sympathy. "That poor boy. He's going to wake up in some strange girl's bed and never know what hit him."

Morgan was watching the action on the dance floor intently, but snapped his head back to look at Rossi. He started to say something, thought better of it, and swiveled again in his chair. Hotch took note; his amused grin turned to a wry smile and he quietly began readying himself to go home. Whatever it was that was about to happen that evening, he intended to be able to claim plausible deniability.

At the same time, Prentiss smiled, stood up and stretched. "Yeah-the worst of it is, he won't remember how great it was. Well-as much as I would like to see how the kid's fortunes go tonight, I'm exhausted. I'm going home while I'm still fit to drive. Tell Romeo goodnight for me."

Rossi nodded in agreement. "Not a bad idea. Ladies-gents-good evening to you all." Rossi threw some bills on the table and pulled on his jacket.

"I'm right behind you, Dave," said Hotch, doing the same.

"Me, too." JJ started digging through her purse for her keys.

"'Night, lightweights." Garcia thoughtfully sipped her drink, then looked at Morgan. He was still watching Reid-the dancing, which had been rather comically pathetic at first, had morphed into a slow, near-standstill grope session on the girl's part. She was wrapped closely around the young profiler, and he was holding onto her. Morgan told himself it was the only way he could stay upright without falling, but he was getting increasingly irritated.

"Garcia, this is all your fault-go rescue him, will you? He's not equipped to deal with booze _and_ predatory females all in one night."

"Oh, let him have some fun! Haven't you noticed how mopey he's been lately? He's had a hell of a time of it, he deserves to blow off some steam."

Morgan thought about how he and Reid had been regularly blowing off steam together and he shifted uncomfortably.

"No, he's too drunk. I'm going to go get him." Morgan started to stand, but Garcia put a hand on his arm.

"Morgan! Leave him alone-what are you, his dad? Do you want him to die a virgin?"

His mouth tightened and he pulled away. "I know what I'm doing." He strode off to the dance floor, leaving Garcia with a questioning expression on her face. She tapped her finger against her bright red lips and carefully watched Morgan's posture as he headed to the swaying couple.

Reid pulled just far enough away from his dance partner to be able to look into her eyes and smile. The girl reached up, Reid leaned down, and she whispered something into his ear. Reid broke into a laugh, and was still laughing when Morgan walked up to the pair. Reid's already happily goofy expression brightened even more at his approach, and he exclaimed, "Hi, Morgan! Hey, you want to dance, too? Tiffany's got a friend- Oh, by the way, this is Tiffany-Hi, Tiffany!" He waggled his fingers at her and she giggled. Morgan rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Tiffany. Excuse me," he said pointedly to the girl before turning his attention to Reid. "Reid, come on. We need to go."

"Wha-huh? Go? Go where?"

"Hey, back off, big guy-we're having a good time," Tiffany protested. Morgan ignored her.

"Reid, now."

Puzzled, Reid looked from Morgan to the girl then back at Morgan. "We... have to go? Where? How come?" His eyes widened and he leaned forward, heavily supporting himself with one hand on Morgan's shoulder, and whispered loudly, "Is there a _case?"_

"No!"

"Then, why do we have to... go?"

"We just _do. _Now, come on." Morgan pulled Reid away from the girl. "We had plans tonight. Remember?"

Reid frowned, then apparently remembered at least part of what they'd discussed doing later that night, and giggled. "Oh, yeah... 'K. Bye, Tiffany! It was nice to, uh, meet you... You're a good dancer!" He grinned that amazing grin that never failed to hit Morgan right in the sex glands, then waved goodbye like a three-year-old and allowed Morgan to lead him shambling away. The girl stood with her hands on her hips and stared after them, then shrugged and went back to the bar.

Morgan stopped at the table where Garcia was now gathering her things.

"Well, I guess we're out of here. You, too, baby girl?"

"Oh, what-I'm going to sit here like an idiot all by myself?"

"I thought Kevin was going to join you."

"Nah. He wants me to come on home."

"All right, then."

"So, what are you doing with Good-Time Spencer Reid, there?"

"I'm going to take him back to his place and put him to bed."

Garcia raised an eyebrow and started to say something, then caught herself and pursed her lips together instead. She thought a moment then said, "Well, be sure to make him drink lots of water, and give him a couple of aspirin." She then stage-whispered directly into Morgan's ear, "And, if you'll come over and install my new garbage disposal tomorrow, I promise I'll never tell Wonder Boy how bad you cock-blocked him this evening."

Morgan grimaced. "Aw, Garcia, come on..."

"Now, no complaining. You said you'd do it last week, but here I am, still all disposal-less. I obviously need some leverage to fit my needs into your busy schedule."

"Can't Kevin do it?"

Garcia gave him a look. Morgan nodded.

"Okay, okay. I'll come by in the afternoon."

Garcia smiled in satisfaction. "Good! Well, good night, guys. I'll see you Monday."

"Good night, Garcia!" Reid said happily, hanging onto Morgan's arm and waving again.

"Good night, boy genius. 'Night, chocolate sex-god. Be... good."

Morgan took no notice of Garcia's suggestive tone as he was too busy keeping Reid upright. "Later, baby girl." He steered Reid out to the car, made sure he buckled his seat belt, then headed to Reid's apartment.


	10. A Reclamation

**A/N: Well, whew, here we are. Guys, this is the last chapter! I had intended to do two more, but it sort of flowed into one, so I left it that way. The first part is kind of humorous and there is SEX, oh, yes. The last part is pretty angsty, and features a sensitive and mature subject. Plus, there are some mild spoilers for several of the early episodes. **

**Anyway, I hope you like the ending and I thank you all for staying with me through this story! Big hugs to you all, and I hope you'll take a minute to review. Thanks, wonderful readers!**

**Seds**

* * *

Morgan parked in front of Reid's apartment. Reid's eyes were closed and he made no move to get out of the car. Morgan gave him an indulgent look, then clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, kid, let's go. I'm not leaving you out here all night."

"Lemme alone, I'm comfy." Reid turned away, intent on staying put, but Morgan strode around and opened the passenger side door and gave his arm a serious yank. Reid grunted and reluctantly stumbled out of the car. Morgan put an arm firmly around his waist and led him to his front door, then propped the unsteady agent against the wall while he found Reid's keys, unlocked the door, then pulled him inside the apartment. Now awake and a bit more cooperative, Reid gave Morgan a questioning look.

"What are we doin', Morgan?"

"I'm putting you to bed, kiddo. Sleepy time."

"But... I'm not tired, and I'm... I'm not tired, Morgan." He smiled rather triumphantly at getting the sentence out without slurring his words.

"Maybe not, but you _are _drunk. Now, move it."

"I'm not-I'm not... I'm not drunk, Morgan. Swear it." He raised his hand in a solemn pledge.

Morgan chuckled. "Oh, yes you are. Now, are you going to come along quietly, or do I have to sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes?" He pulled a still-protesting Reid _(I _swear_ I'm not tired, Morgan... I'm not tired at all...) _along with him to the bedroom, then loosened his tie and pulled it from around his neck.

"Now, let's get your clothes off."

Reid suddenly grinned devilishly, then giggled. "Yes, sir!" He started unbuttoning his shirt, but couldn't quite get his fingers to cooperate and began attempting to just tear open the fabric. Morgan rolled his eyes.

"Hey, hey! No need for that. Stop! Let me help you-" Morgan took over the task and Reid wavered a bit as he aimed a drunken kiss at Morgan's cheek-and missed. He frowned in frustration.

"Darn it. Hey, help me out here-kiss me, hot stuff."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and almost laughed out loud. "'Hot stuff?' Oh, man, you _are _drunk."

"That's what Garcia calls you."

Morgan smirked fondly. "Yeah, Garcia's mistress of the flirt. Didn't expect it from you, though, pretty boy." He paused a moment and looked into Reid's heavy-lidded eyes. "But, I like it. Too bad you're not like this sober." Reid snickered and again went in for a kiss. Morgan tried to resist, but ended up locked in a clumsy, tongue-tangling smooch, with Reid clinging to Morgan as he ground his hips against his. Morgan forced himself to pull back.

"All right, all right, that's enough. Look, Reid, this isn't happening tonight. Just-just take off your shoes and get into bed. I'll go crash on the couch, and-"

"But, Der-rek..." Reid's voice had become a sing-song whine in Morgan's ear. "You have to get under the covers, too. Get naked with me. Wanna make love." Amused to the point of snickering at his own attempt at seduction, Reid waited good-naturedly as Morgan regarded him with a critical look, then firmly shook his head.

"Oh, no. Uh-uh. Make no mistake, you're cute as hell, but you're too drunk. I don't make love to impaired people."

"Awww... come on, Morgan, I'm not that drunk, and I want to..." Much to Morgan's surprise, Reid suddenly moved swiftly and fluidly, and used a judo hold on him that had him land flat on his back on the bed. Reid then proceeded to climb on top of him, going in for another sloppy kiss.

"Reid! What the hell-let go! You little-" Morgan tried to twist free, but Reid was stronger than he looked, and he was determined. They wrestled back and forth until they were laughing and so close to the edge of the bed that they were in danger of falling to the floor. Morgan managed to get them more or less centered on the bed and stared up at him with a combination of delight and bewilderment.

No longer clumsy, Reid deftly popped open the buttons on Morgan's shirt and, starting with the area just below his belly button, inched his way upward, planting kisses on Morgan's exposed skin until he got to his mouth. He lay on top of him and pressed his lips against Morgan's, taking him in a deep, passionate kiss.

Morgan smiled against his lover's unusually eager mouth. This was a side of Reid he had never seen before. In fact, kissing was something that normally didn't seem to appeal to Reid. But, now... This was delicious. Still, it was hard to believe the kid had sobered up so quickly. Reluctantly, Morgan pulled away.

"Reid, stop it. Look at me." In spite of some resistance, Morgan firmly pushed Reid off of him and they both sat up, leaning against the headboard, panting. "Now, what the hell has gotten into you?"

Reid gave him a disgusted huff. "Nothing yet, unfortunately. Are you going to put out, or what?"

"Reid!"

"Come on, Derek, I'm experiencing serious sexual arousal! Look at this!" he said, gesturing at the swollen bulge in the front of his pants. "Let's have intercourse, or, um, _'fuck,_' as you so elegantly put it."

"I'd love to, but-you are not thinking straight, boy."

Reid burst into laughter. "No, I certainly am not! Good one... Now, come on-" He looked back at Morgan and put a hand to his face in a caress. "Honest, it's ok. I swear I'm not that drunk."

Morgan put an arm over his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Oh, really? You could barely walk back at the bar."

"Yeah, well-I was... kind of exaggerating the level of my inebriation, for you guys' benefit." His grin took a sly turn and he shrugged. "Didn't want to disappoint Garcia. Plus, I was curious to see how you would react."

Morgan frowned. "Wait a minute-were you flirting with that girl just to see what I would do?"

"Yup."

"You little bastard!"

More giggles. "You let Garcia sneak booze into my glass-you deserved it."

"Aw, man, you knew? Listen, I just thought you needed a little mental blow-out after all the stress you've been under. I was right there, keeping an eye on you. I wouldn't have let anything happen to you."

"I know. Still-it was... kind of fun. Seeing your eyes pop out like that." Reid snickered a little more, then they were both quiet.

Morgan mulled over the possibility that Spencer Reid was actually interested in whether or not he could get a rise of jealousy out of him, and, if so, what that could possibly mean. But before he could formulate a sentence, Reid unzipped his pants, wriggled out of them, and, naked and erect as hell, turned to him and kissed him. Then, with his lips no more than a millimeter from Morgan's, he said, "Clothes off-now," with an almost Hotch-like tone of authority.

Morgan smirked and raised his hands helplessly. "Yes, sir," he said softly. He pulled off his trousers and lay back. Reid quickly brought his member to full attention with his mouth. Pleased with the results, he reached into his nightstand drawer and handed the needed supplies to Morgan.

When they were ready, Reid straddled him. He took Morgan's hardness in his hand and eased the tip inside himself, then slowly lowered himself onto the straining shaft. He winced a bit, and Morgan spoke in a warm, creamy voice, "Easy, tiger. Don't hurt yourself. We got all night."

"I'm fine. I'm okay. You're just so damn _big-" _He stopped, feeling his body give to accommodate the thick length, then settled lower and lower, pausing when it became too much, until he was fully seated on his lover's hips. He took a moment to savor the pleasure of having Morgan completely inside him, studiously noting the depth and pressure afforded by the unfamiliar position.

Morgan couldn't stop looking at his face-the appearance of boyish innocence debauched by sultry lust-and he gently pulled the young man toward him for a kiss. Reid responded eagerly, then raised himself again and began easing himself forward and back, making soft moans as the good feelings began to surge through him. He shifted to circular motions, and observed the effect that had on Morgan's expression-his eyes were now closed, and his lips were slightly parted as his breath came a little faster. "Oh, baby... that feels so right. Keep going, Spence-I love that..."

Reid increased the pace, and he heard Morgan groan happily. Then, suddenly, Morgan gripped his waist and in a smooth move of sexual choreography, easily flipped Reid onto his back without losing contact. "God, Derek," Reid sighed as he looked up at him from his new vantage point. "You're amazing. Fuck me." Morgan had never heard him say those two words so starkly put together, but...

He proceeded to obey the order without question.

* * *

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, completely sated. Reid lifted his eyes to Morgan's and kissed him again, softly this time, controlled, all traces of drunken foolishness gone, replaced by a sweet, tender sort of longing that made Morgan's chest ache.

When it ended, Morgan stroked his face and said, "Damn. Almost feels like you love me when you kiss me like that."

Reid's smile came slow, sad. He shook his head slightly. "Come on, Morgan, don't say that. Don't... use that word."

Morgan laughed slightly. "All right. But, would it be so terrible for you to admit that you have some feelings for me?"

"I _do_ have feelings for you. I like being with you. I feel happy when I'm with you. It's like everything else goes away." Reid raised his eyes. "When I'm with you, I feel... normal." He laughed a little, too. "That's a huge compliment, by the way."

"Spencer-damn it, kid, you _are_ normal, you're fine-"

"No. I've always been different. For a long time, I thought it was my IQ, and being younger than everybody else, but that's not what this is. It goes too deep-and, I can't change it. 'What's bred in the bone,' and all that-"

"Wait-I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Reid held Morgan's demanding stare but didn't speak for a long moment. Finally, he said, "All right. You know what Hankel did to me, physically. But... what happened went beyond that."

"Yeah, he injected you with drugs against your will. That's beyond anything I can imagine."

"Well-I'm not talking about that either, although it's part of it. What Hankel-or, rather, his other personality, Raphael-did was to force me to look at myself, at the things I've done. He talked about my 'sins,' and about how I was a liar." Reid paused and took a deep breath while Morgan's frown deepened. "Regardless of my rejection of any sort of religious belief system, I can't disregard the fact that-he was right."

"Aw, Reid, come on, man. He was delusional, insane-"

"That doesn't matter. Think about it, Morgan-what I did to my mom, putting her away and never coming to visit her. How could I do that? And, this job. Going to work every day, looking _forward _to it... I killed a man! And, I've seen death in... so many forms. It never meant anything to me, not really. It never touched me. But, after Hankel, everything came into sharp focus. I saw myself, finally. What I am... what I've done. These things that I _don't_ feel-it's not normal. How could you love someone like that?" He gave Morgan a bewildered shrug. "You couldn't. Once you figured it out, you couldn't." Reid dropped his eyes and stared at his hands.

Morgan's voice was gruff. "Reid, look at me. We've got to stop playing." Reid reluctantly raised his eyes to Morgan's and saw the intensity within them. "You know as well as I do that you had no choice about your mom. Or, the man you killed. He would have killed you, and Hotch, too. You did nothing wrong."

Reid laughed, and the sound chilled Morgan. "Right or wrong isn't the issue-it's how you feel about it afterward. I have no regrets about killing Dowd. Intellectually, I understand that it was the right thing to do. But, don't you see? To do something to another person-to take a life, whether literally or metaphorically, should be... devastating." Reid sought Morgan's gaze and the energy required to hold back his emotions made his eyes glitter. "But-I just walked away. Went on to the next thing. Even after I did something terrible."

Morgan spoke more gently. "Those things were not... terrible."

"No-it's something else."

"So, tell me."

Reid shook his head and rubbed his face as if to scrub it clean. "I can't. It's too hard. I can't say these things to you."

"Spencer, there's nothing you could say to me that would make me think less of you. You know that."

"I know you think that."

"I _know_ that."

Reid gestured impatiently. "You have this image of me, but it's wrong-" His voice began to break. Morgan put his arm around him.

"Reid-"

"It's these kids, Morgan! These kids dying. Every time I see it, I just think-what kind of a world is this? How did we get to this point? That there are people-_monsters_-that would subject the most helpless, innocent little children to such... Then, I think of what I've done in my life and I wonder-am I really any better?" His expression had turned to something Morgan couldn't read.

Morgan shook his head, bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you seriously comparing yourself to an unsub? That's crazy."

Reid shrugged and bit his lip. Then, his voice dropped to a raw whisper. "You don't know what I did."

"Then, tell me. Tell me what you did."

"I've never told anyone."

Morgan felt a tightness in his chest as he ran through the possibilities. He was beginning to regret pushing Reid into confession, but there was no turning back now. "Go ahead, Spencer. Tell me."

Reid wouldn't look at him. He stared at the wall, then took a deep breath. His voice was tight. "It happened when was in graduate school, right after... they came for my mom. I was eighteen. There was this girl in my analytical chemistry class-her name was Claire. She was older than I was, of course. Beautiful. Long dark hair, blue eyes. I... had a huge crush on her." Reid smiled slightly at the memory. Morgan, now thoroughly puzzled, put his hand on Reid's and nodded.

"I was so pathetic. Awkward, immature, no self-confidence. I knew there was no way she'd ever look at me twice, but I kept finding excuses to talk to her. I finally got up my courage and asked her to have coffee with me. I couldn't believe it when she said yes. After that, we started meeting to play chess in the student lounge every afternoon, and one day, she invited me to her place for dinner. I was so happy-I felt like I'd won the lottery or something.

"That night, I... lost my virginity to her. We started this affair-it was insane, I'd never imagined sex could be like that. I kind of... lost my mind, I was so in love with her. Jesus, Morgan-I wanted to marry her! But, when I told her how I felt... she just laughed."

"Damn."

"Yeah. She... told me she had a boyfriend in the service, that he'd be returning to the States in a year and that they were going to get married. I was crushed. I felt so used and stupid. I just... I don't know, I sort of closed down for a while. But, then, a few weeks after we broke up, Claire came to see me. She told me she was pregnant-and that it was my kid."

Morgan blinked. "Whoa, whoa, whoa-you got a girl _pregnant? _Damn, boy."

Reid suddenly looked annoyed. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I don't know-I guess I always think of you as just barely past being a kid yourself."

"I'm a grown man! Look, never mind-"

"Oh, no, you don't. You're not leaving me hanging. Keep going."

Reid ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Okay. Anyway-I didn't even know what to say to her. It just didn't seem possible, it didn't seem-_real_. I'd never so much as been around a baby in my whole life. I was an only child. Children were just... creatures that caused a ruckus in restaurants or drove me crazy on airplanes.

"At first, I didn't even believe it was mine, but she swore that it was. She told me... she told me she wanted to have it. She said-"

Morgan pulled back and looked at him in consternation. "Wait a minute-are you saying you have a kid somewhere?"

"I'm not finished! Will you let me finish?"

"Okay, okay, sorry. Go ahead."

"She said she couldn't tell her parents, or her boyfriend. But, she wanted to have the baby. She planned to put it up for adoption, but she was afraid of going through it alone. Asked me if I would be there for her, to help her face giving it away. I... refused. I told her I didn't want anything to do with her, or the child. I told her I'd give her some money for expenses, but that that was the extent of any involvement I was willing to offer. I remember looking at her-this girl I had been so in love with-and feeling _nothing. _It was like I'd flipped a switch in my brain. There was no response, almost no recognition. Simply put? She meant nothing to me anymore."

Morgan pursed his lips, trying to frame his thoughts. "That's just a defense mechanism. It's uncommon, but you tend to compartmentalize-you just-"

Reid's voice dropped so low that Morgan had to strain to hear. "I'm still not finished. She said, well, then-she'd have an abortion. I said good, do it. I told her I'd pay for it. She sat there while I made a couple of phone calls and set up an appointment for her. I wrote a check to cover the costs of the procedure.

"She asked me to go with her to the clinic, but I wouldn't even do that. I said that I'd washed my hands of the whole situation at that point, and for her to have a nice life with her soldier boyfriend and not to ever contact me again.

"I got the canceled check back from the clinic, so I knew she went through with it. I was _glad_, Derek. Relieved. The last thing I wanted was to deal with a... a kid. After that, I never gave it a second thought. In my mind, it was over and done with. Over and... done.

"I never let myself think about it again. But, when that boy died right in front of me-I tried to save him, but I couldn't. I watched his life ebb away, and I thought-I thought about _my_ child. What I'd let happen to him-I wasn't even there! I couldn't even be bothered to be there when some... _butcher _put an end to his life in a cheap abortion clinic."

Tears had welled up in Reid's eyes and Morgan squeezed his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It wasn't like that. They don't-"

Reid continued as if he hadn't heard him. "The other day, JJ made me put my hand on her belly so I could feel the baby moving around. It freaked me out, but-it was amazing. A little life going on, right there inside her. A little boy. And I thought about what I'd done-_to my own child_. My own... baby." He turned to look at Morgan, and his face was strained from holding back the torrent of emotion that had welled up inside him. "I... keep wondering if it was a boy or a girl. I feel like it was a boy, I don't know why... I think about how old he'd be by now. He'd be in school. I bet he'd be smart. I bet he'd be tall for his age..."

By now, tears were running down his cheeks and he hastily wiped them away. "I _killed _him, Derek. He never had a chance, and it's my fault. Claire wanted to have him, to give him to people who would love him and give him a good life, but I-I just turned her away because... I didn't feel anything, and-"

Morgan pulled him into his chest. "Hey, hey. Listen. You were young and scared and you didn't know what to do. Anyway, she made the final choice, not you."

Morgan felt Reid shiver. He looked into his eyes. Reid was shaking his head, trembling.

"But, Derek, don't you see? Don't you understand? _I didn't feel anything. _Nothing, I didn't care! You want me to love you, but what if I can't? Think about it. If I can't even care about a little baby, my own little baby, how-how can I love someone else, really love someone, ever? How can I-"

"Spencer, stop. Just stop, calm down. Shhh." Morgan held him closer and stroked his hair. "There's nothing wrong with you, babe. I promise. You were just a kid. You'd already been through a lot, and you didn't understand. It's okay, it's okay."

He spoke soothingly to him, holding and rocking him until he felt the tremors fade and Reid's breathing slowed. Reid had collapsed against him as if his muscles could no longer support him. Finally, he seemed to come back to himself and he sat back. He took a ragged breath before speaking.

"I just... keep thinking about it. Over and over and over again. I don't know what to do."

"You have to let this go, babe. You're not a bad person because you let your ex terminate the pregnancy. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe it wasn't-but you're not... like an unsub. It's time to let this go. Let it go. Hey-look at me."

Morgan gently turned his face to him and cupped his chin in his hand. "Claire did what was right for her at the time. Now, you need to forgive yourself, and to forgive her. It's time to-to get yourself back." He soothingly rubbed Reid's neck and kissed him. "I know what it's like to have regrets, to think-you should have done something differently. But, you can't let this control your life. We're here, now-we have a chance. A chance to have something special. Don't you want that?" He tilted Reid's face upward, and Reid looked at him a moment before nodding.

"Okay, then. We just have to figure out how to get there. Together."

"You're really willing to take a chance on me, knowing all this? Knowing I might be... crazy?"

"You're not. You just need some help. We'll get it for you. And, I'll be there. Every step of the way."

A broken smile worked through Reid's tears. He nodded again and lay back against Morgan's chest. He felt exhausted, yet, somehow, cleansed. He shook his head in disbelief. _He'd spoken the words_. He'd said them aloud to Morgan, and he was still here with him, holding him, promising to help him as he worked through his pain and guilt and regret. As he worked to reclaim himself from the despair Tobias Hankel had forced him to face. It felt good, but it was almost overwhelming. He listened to Morgan's heart, his even breathing, and was thankful when he felt the calm of sleep begin to overcome him.

For the first time in a long time, he slept without dreams.

-The End-


End file.
